<*      (** 


DWARD 
STRATEMEYER 


III 


ttmrnammmmamamamamiiimaummmmttm 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00025764487 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


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The  canoe  was  sent  closer  and  finally  beached.  —  Page  258, 


Dave  porter  Series 


DAVE  POETEE  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 


THE  STEANGE  CEUISE  OF  THE  STOEMY  PETEEL 


Br 
EDWARD    STRATEMEYER 

Author  of  "Under  Togo  for  Japan,"  "Under  the  Mikado's 

Flag,"   "  At  the  Fall  of  Port  Arthur,"  "  Old   Glory 

Series,"  *•  Pan-American   Series,"    "  Colonial 

Series,"  *'  American  Boys'  Biographical 

Series,"  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  I.  B.  HAZEL  TON 


BOSTON 
LOTHROP,  LEE   &   SHEPARD   CO. 


Published,  August,  1906 


Copyright,  1906,  by  Lothrop,  Lee  and  Shepard  Co. 

All  rights  reserved 

Dave  Porter  in  the  South  Seas 


■Rorwoofc  iptess 

Berwick  and  Smith  Co. 

Norwood,  Mass. 

U.  S.  A. 


PREFACE 

"Dave  Porter  in  the  South  Seas"  is  a  com- 
plete story  in  itself,  but  forms  the  second  volume  in 
a  line  issued  under  the  general  title  of  "Dave  Porter 
Series." 

In  the  first  volume  of  this  series,  called  "Dave 
Porter  at  Oak  Hall,"  I  introduced  a  typical  Ameri- 
can boy,  and  gave  something  of  his  haps  and  mis- 
haps at  an  American  boarding  school  of  to-day. 
At  this  school  Dave  made  a  number  of  warm 
friends,  and  also  a  few  enemies,  and  was  the 
means  of  bringing  one  weak  and  misguided  youth 
to  a  realization  of  his  better  self.  Dave  was  poor 
and  had  to  fight  his  way  to  the  front,  and  this  was 
not  accomplished  until  he  had  shown  those  around 
him  what  a  truly  straightforward  and  manly  fellow 
he  was. 

The  one  great  cloud  over  Dave's  life  was  the 
question  of  his  parentage.  He  had  been  raised  by 
those  who  knew  practically  nothing  of  his  past, 
and  when  he  thought  that  he  saw  a  chance  to  learn 
something  about  himself,  he  embraced  that  oppor- 
tunity eagerly,  even  though  it  necessitated  a  long 
trip  to  the  South  Seas  and  a  search  among  strange 


iv  PREFACE 

islands  and  still  stranger  natives.  Dave  makes  the 
trip  in  a  vessel  belonging  to  the  father  of  one  of 
his  school  chums,  and  is  accompanied  by  several 
of  his  friends.  Not  a  few  perils  are  encountered, 
and  what  the  boys  do  under  such  circumstances  I 
leave  for  the  pages  that  follow  to  tell. 

In  penning  this  tale,  I  have  had  a  twofold  object 
in  view :  first,  to  give  my  young  readers  a  view  of 
a  long  ocean  trip  and  let  them  learn  something  of 
the  numerous  islands  which  dot  the  South  Seas,  and, 
in  the  second  place,  to  aid  in  teaching  that  old 
truth — that  what  is  worth  having  is  worth  work- 
ing for. 

Again  I  thank  the  many  thousands  of  boys  and 
girls,  and  older  persons,  too,  who  have  shown  their 
appreciation  of  my  efforts  to  amuse  and  instruct 
them.  I  can  only  add,  as  I  have  done  before,  that 
I  sincerely  trust  that  this  volume  fulfills  their  every 
reasonable  expectation. 

Edward  Stratemeyer. 

April  10,  1906. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

I.  The  Boys  of  Oak  Hall     . 

II.  A  Glimpse  of  the  Past 

III.  Three  Chums  on  the  River 

IV.  A  Plot  to  "  Square  Up" 
V.  What  the  Plot  Led  To    . 

VI.  The  Fun  of  a  Night 

VII.  Gus  Plum's  Mysterious  Offer 

VIII.  Shadow  Hamilton's  Confession 

IX.  About  Athletic  Contests 

X.  How  A  Race  was  Won       .        . 

XI.  A  Fight  and  Its  Result    . 

XII.  Shadow  as  a  Somnambulist 

XIII.  A  Photograph  of  Importance  . 

XIV.  A  Oi£AM  of  Light 
XV.  Winding  up  the  School  Term 

XVI.  Preparing  for  a  Long  Trip 

XVII.  The  Trip  to  the  Far  West      . 

XVIII.  Sailing  of  the  "Stormy  Petrel" 

XIX.  Days  on  the  Ocean     . 

XX.  Caught  in  a  Storm 

XXI.  Cavasa  Island  at  Last 

XXII.  About  Some  Missing  Men 

XXIII.  In  Which  the  Supercargo  is  Cornered 

XXIV.  The  Cargo  Mystery  Explained 
XXV.  Swept  Onward  by  a  Tidal  Wave 

v 


PAGE 

I 

IO 

19 
28 

37 
46 

55 
64 

72 

81 
90 
100 
110 
119 
128 

137 
146 

155 
164 

174 
183 
192 
201 
21c 
219 


vi  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXVI.  Exploring  a  Tropical  Island         .        .        .  228 

XXVII.  A  Map  and  a  Plot 237 

XXVIII.  Marooned 245 

XXIX.  The  Coming  of  the  Natives  ....  254 

XXX.  The  Retaking  of  the  ' '  Stormy  Petrel  "    .  262 

XXXI.  Lifting  the  Curtain 280 

XXXII.  Homeward  Bound — Conclusion       .        .        .  278 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  canoe  was  sent  closer  and  finally  beached 

(page  258) Frontisp 


PAGE 


Dave   cleared  the  last  hurdle,  and  carne   in   a 
winner 87 

"  Tell  me  his  name,  at  once  I" 121 

«  Good-by  to  Oak  Hall !  "  .     . 137 

Another  flash  lit  up  the  scene 179 

The  former  supercargo  was  washed  off  the  steps 
and  came  down  flat  on  his  back 225 

Billy  Dill  managed  to  catch  the  last  one  and 
turn  him  over 233 

"  I  have  come  about  seven  thousand  miles  to  see 
you" 274 


DAVE   PORTER  IN   THE 
SOUTH   SEAS 

CHAPTER    I 

THE    BOYS    OF   OAK    HALL 

"Hello,  Dave;  where  are  you  bound?" 

"For  the  river,  Phil.  I  am  going  out  for  a  row. 
Want  to  come  along?" 

"That  suits  me,"  answered  Phil  Lawrence, 
throwing  down  the  astronomy  he  had  been  study- 
ing. "But  I  can't  stay  out  late,"  he  added,  reach- 
ing for  his  cap.  "Got  two  examples  in  algebra  to 
do.     Have  you  finished  up?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Dave  Porter.  "They  are  not 
so  hard." 

"And  your  Latin?" 

"That's  done,  too." 

Phil  Lawrence  eyed  the  boy  before  him  admir- 
ingly. "Dave,  I  don't  see  how  you  manage  it. 
You're  always  on  deck  for  fun,  and  yet  you  scarcely 
miss  a  lesson.    Let  me  into  the  secret,  won't  you?" 

"That's  right,  Dave;  pull  the  cover  off  clean  and 
clear,"  came  from  a  youth  who  had  just  entered 


2        DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

the  school  dormitory.  "If  I  can  get  lessons  with- 
out studying " 

"Oh,  Roger,  you  know  better  than  that,"  burst 
out  Dave  Porter,  with  a  smile.  "Of  course  I  have 
to  study — just  the  same  as  anybody.  But  when  I 
study,  I  study,  and  when  I  play,  I  play.  I've  found 
out  that  it  doesn't  pay  to  mix  the  two  up — it  is  best 
to  buckle  your  mind  down  to  the  thing  on  hand  and 
to  nothing  else." 

"That's  the  talk,"  came  from  a  boy  resting  on 
one  of  the  beds.  "It  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  story  I 
once  heard  about  a  fellow  who  fell  from  the  roof 
of  a  house  to  the  ground " 

"There  goes  Shadow  again !"  cried  Roger  Morr. 
"Shadow,  will  you  ever  get  done  telling  chestnuts?" 

"This  isn't  a  chestnut,  and  I  haven't  told  it 
over  twice  in  my  life.  The  man  fell  to  the  ground 
past  an  open  window.  As  he  was  going  down,  he 
grabbed  another  man  at  the  window  by  the  hair. 
The  hair — it  was  a  wig — came  off.  'Say,'  yells 
the  man  at  the  window.  'Leave  me  alone.  If  you 
want  to  fall,  'tend  to  business,  and  fall!'  "  And  a 
smile  passed  around  among  the  assembled  school- 
boys. 

"Perhaps  Roger  would  like  to  come  along,"  con- 
tinued Dave.  "I  was  going  out  for  a  row,  and  Phil 
said  he  would  go,  too,"  he  explained. 

"That  suits  me,"  answered  Roger  Morr.  "It 
will  give  us  an  appetite  for  supper." 


THE  BOYS  OF  OAK  HALL  3 

"What  about  you,  Shadow?"  and  Dave  turned 
to  the  youth  on  the  bed. 

Maurice  Hamilton  shook  his  head  slightly. 
"Not  to-day.  I  am  going  to  take  a  nap,  if  I  can 
get  it.     Remember,  I  was  up  half  the  night." 

"So  he  was,"  affirmed  Phil  Lawrence.  "But  he 
hasn't  said  what  it  was  about." 

"Not  much,"  growled  the  boy  called  Shadow. 
He  was  very  tall  and  very  thin,  hence  the  nick- 
name.   Turning  over,  he  pretended  to  go  to  sleep. 

"There  is  something  wrong  about  Shadow,"  said 
Dave  as  he  and  his  two  companions  left  the  school 
building  and  hurried  for  the  river  at  the  back  of 
the  grounds.  "He  has  not  been  himself  at  all  to- 
day." 

"I  think  he  has  had  something  to  do  with  that 
bully,  Gus  Plum,"  said  Phil.  "I  saw  them  together 
two  days  ago,  and  both  were  talking  earnestly.  I 
don't  know  exactly  what  it  was  about.  But  I  know 
Shadow  has  been  very  much  disturbed  ever  since." 

"Well,  the  best  he  can  do  is  to  leave  Plum 
alone,"  returned  Dave,  decidedly.  "I  can  tell  you, 
fellows,  that  chap  is  not  to  be  trusted;  you  know 
that  as  well  as  I  do." 

"Of  course  we  know  it,"  said  Roger  Morr. 
"Didn't  I  warn  you  against  Gus  Plum  before  you 
ever  came  to  Oak  Hall?  And  now  that  Chip 
Macklin  has  turned  over  a  new  leaf  and  refused 
to  be  Plum's  toady  any  longer,  the  bully  is  worse 


4      DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

than  ever.  Only  yesterday  Buster  Beggs  caught 
him  back  of  the  gym.,  abusing  one  of  the  little 
fellows.  Buster  is  generally  too  lazy  to  rouse  up, 
but  he  said  it  made  him  mad,  and  he  told  Plum  to 
stop,  or  it  would  be  the  worse  for  him,  and  Plum 
went  off  grumbling." 

"It's  a  great  pity  Plum  can't  reform,  like 
Macklin.  I  declare,  Chip  is  getting  to  be  quite  a 
decent  sort,  now." 

"It's  not  in  Plum  to  reform,"  exclaimed  Phil 
Lawrence.  "If  I  were  Doctor  Clay,  I'd  get  rid  of 
him.  Why,  such  a  chap  can  keep  a  whole  school  in 
hot  water." 

"Somebody  said  that  Plum's  father  had  lost 
a  good  bit  of  his  money,"  observed  Roger  Morr. 
"If  that  is  so,  it  must  be  a  bitter  pill  for  Gus  to 
swallow." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  taunt  him  with  it,  if  it's  true," 
replied  Dave,  quickly. 

"Oh,  I  shan't  say  a  word — although  he  deserves 
to  have  it  rubbed  in,  for  the  way  he  treated  you, 
Dave." 

"Yes,  that  was  a  jolly  shame,"  commented  Phil. 
"It  makes  me  angry  every  time  I  think  of  it." 

"I  am  willing  to  let  bygones  be  bygones,"  said 
Dave,  with  a  little  smile.  "As  it  was,  it  only 
showed  me  who  my  true  friends  were,  and  are.  I 
can  afford  to  get  along  without  the  others." 

"And  especially  after  we  waxed  Plum  and  his 


THE  BOYS  OF  OAK  HALL  5 

crowd  at  baseball,  and  then  won  our  great  victory 
over  the  Rockville  boys,"  said  Roger.  "Oh,  but 
wasn't  that  a  dandy  victory !  And  didn't  we  have 
a  dandy  celebration  afterwards !" 

"And  do  you  remember  the  big  cannon  cracker 
we  set  off  in  the  courtyard?"  Dave's  eyes  began 
to  twinkle.  "I  heard  afterwards  that  Pop  Swingly, 
the  janitor,  was  scared  almost  to  death.  He 
thought  somebody  was  trying  to  blow  up  the 
building." 

"Yes,  and  Job  Haskers  said  if  he  could  catch  the 

fellow  who "     Phil  broke  off  short.     "Here 

comes  Gus  Plum,  now,"  he  whispered. 

The  others  looked  up,  and  saw  coming  toward 
them  across  the  school  grounds  a  tall,  broad-shoul- 
dered individual,  loudly  dressed,  and  with  a  shock 
of  uncombed  hair  and  a  cap  set  over  on  one  ear. 

"Hello,  Plum,"  said  Dave,  pleasantly,  while  his 
two  companions  nodded  to  the  newcomer. 

"Hello,  yourself,"  came  shortly  from  Gus  Plum. 
"Hold  up  a  minute,"  he  went  on,  planting  himself 
in  front  of  the  three. 

"What's  wanted?"  questioned  Phil,  in  a  little 
surprise. 

"I  want  to  know  if  Shadow  Hamilton  has  been 
saying  anything  about  me  to  you,"  growled  the 
bully  of  Oak  Hall. 

"I  haven't  heard  anything,"  answered  Phil, 
while  Dave  and  Roger  shook  their  heads. 


6      DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Humph !    He  had  better  not !"  muttered  Plum, 

with  a  scowl.     "If  he  does "     The  bully  did 

not  finish. 

"I  hope  there  is  no  more  trouble  in  the  air,"  was 
Dave's  comment. 

"There  will  be  trouble,  if  Hamilton  opens  his 
trap.  I  won't  allow  anybody  in  this  school  to  talk 
about  me,  and  all  of  you  had  better  understand  it," 
and  the  bully  glared  at  the  others  defiantly. 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking 
about,"  said  Dave.  "I  haven't  said  anything  about 
you." 

"And  you  haven't  heard  anything?"  inquired 
Gus  Plum,  with  a  look  of  keen  anxiety  showing  on 
his  coarse  face. 

"I've  heard  some  roundabout  story  about  your 
father  losing  money,"  said  Roger,  before  Dave 
could  answer.  "If  it  is  true,  I  am  sorry  for  you, 
Gus." 

"Bah!  I  don't  want  your  sympathy.  Did 
Hamilton  tell  you  that  story?" 

"No." 

"I  suppose  you  are  spreading  it  right  and  left, 
eh?  Making  me  out  to  be  a  pauper,  like  your 
friend  Porter,  eh?"  continued  Gus  Plum,  working 
himself  up  into  a  magnificent  condition  of  ill- 
humor. 

"I  am  not  spreading  it  right  and  left,"  answered 
Roger,  quietly. 


THE  BOYS  OF  OAK  HALL  7 

"And  I  am  not  a  pauper,  Plum !"  exclaimed 
Dave,  with  flashing  eyes.  "I  thought  we  had 
settled  that  difference  of  opinion  long  ago.  If  you 
are  going  to  open  it  up  again " 

"Oh,  don't  mind  what  he  says,  Dave,"  broke  in 
Phil,  catching  his  chum  by  the  arm,  "You  know 
nobody  in  the  school  pays  attention  to  him." 

"I  won't  let  any  of  you  run  me  down!"  roared 
Gus  Plum.  "Now,  just  you  remember  that!  If 
any  of  you  say  a  word  about  me  or  my  father,  I'll 
make  it  so  hot  for  you  that  you'll  wish  you  had 
never  been  born.  My  father  has  lost  a  little  money, 
but  it  ain't  a  flea-bite  to  what  he  is  worth,  and  I 
want  everybody  in  this  school  to  know  it." 

"And  I  want  you  to  know  that  you  cannot  con- 
tinue to  insult  me,"  blazed  out  Dave.  "I  am  not  as 
rich  as  most  of  the  boys  here,  but " 

"He  is  just  as  good  as  any  of  us,  Plum,  remem- 
ber that,"  finished  Phil.  "It  is  an  outrage  for  you 
to  refer  to  Dave  as  a  pauper." 

"Well,  didn't  he  come  from  the  poorhouse,  and 
ain't  he  a  nobody?"  sneered  the  bully. 

"He  is  a  better  fellow  than  you  will  ever  be, 
Plum,"  said  Roger,  warmly.  He  and  Phil  were 
both  holding  Dave  back.  "Don't  listen  to  him, 
Dave." 

"Yes,  but,  fellows "    Dave's  face  was  white, 

and  he  trembled  all  over. 

"I  know  it  cuts  you,"  whispered  Roger.     "But 


8      DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Plum  is  a — a  brute.  Don't  waste  your  breath  on 
him." 

"Ho!  so  I  am  a  brute,  am  I?"  blustered  the  big 
bully,  clenching  his  fists. 

"Yes,  you  are,"  answered  Roger,  boldly.  "Any 
fellow  with  a  spark  of  goodness  and  honor  in  him 
would  not  speak  to  Dave  as  you  have  done.  It 
simply  shows  up  your  own  low-mindedness,  Plum." 

"Don't  you  preach!"  shouted  the  bully.  "Say 
another  word,  and  I'll — I'll " 

"We  are  not  afraid  of  you,"  said  Phil,  firmly. 
"We've  told  you  that  before.  We  intend  to  leave 
you  alone,  and  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  leave 
us  alone." 

"Bah!  I  know  you,  and  you  can't  fool  me! 
You  say  one  thing  to  my  face  and  another  behind 
my  back.  But  don't  you  dare  to  say  too  much ;  and 
you  can  tell  Shadow  Hamilton  not  to  say  too  much, 
either.  If  you  do — well,  there  will  be  war,  that's 
all — and  all  of  you  will  get  what  you  don't  want !" 
And  with  this  threat,  Gus  Plum  hurried  around  a 
corner  of  the  school  building  and  out  of  sight. 

"What  a  cad!"  murmured  Phil. 

"He  is  worked  up;  no  disputing  that,"  was 
Roger's  comment.  "He  acts  as  if  he  was  afraid 
something  was  being  told  that  he  wished  to  keep 
a  secret." 

The  hot  blood  had  rushed  to  Dave's  face,  and 
he  was  still  trembling. 


THE  BOYS  OF  OAK  HALL  9 

"I  wish  I  had  knocked  him  down,"  he  said  in  a 
low  tone. 

"What  good  would  it  have  done?"  returned 
Roger.  "It  would  only  get  you  into  trouble  with 
the  doctor,  and  that  is  just  what  Plum  would  like. 
When  it  comes  to  a  standing  in  the  class,  he  knows 
he  hasn't  as  much  to  lose  as  you  have.  He  is 
almost  at  the  bottom  already,  while  you  are  close 
to  the  top." 

"But,  Roger,  he  said — oh,  I  can't  bear  to  think 
about  it !  I  suppose  he  blabs  it  to  everybody,  too, 
and  they  will  think " 

"Don't  give  it  another  thought,  Dave,"  said  Phil, 
soothingly,  and  he  turned  his  chum  toward  the  river 
again.  "Dismiss  Plum  and  all  his  meanness  from 
your  mind." 

"I  wish  I  could,"  answered  Dave,  and  his  voice 
had  a  great  deal  of  seriousness  in  it. 


CHAPTER   II 

A   GLIMPSE   OF   THE   PAST 

As  the  three  boys  hurried  to  the  river,  Dave 
Porter  felt  that  all  his  anticipated  sport  for  that 
afternoon  had  been  spoiled.  He  had  been  brought 
face  to  face  once  more  with  the  one  dark  spot  in 
his  history,  and  his  heart  was  filled  with  a  bit- 
terness which  his  two  loyal  chums  could  scarcely 
comprehend. 

Dave  was  indeed  a  poorhouse  boy,  and  of  un- 
known parentage.  When  but  a  few  years  of  age, 
he  had  been  found  one  evening  in  the  summer  wan- 
dering close  to  the  railroad  tracks  just  outside  of 
the  village  of  Crumville.  How  he  was  found  by 
some  farm  hands  and  taken  to  a  house  and  fed  and 
cared  for  otherwise,  has  already  been  related  in  the 
first  volume  of  this  series,  entitled  "Dave  Porter  at 
Oak  Hall." 

At  first,  every  effort  to  learn  his  identity  was 
made,  but,  this  failing,  he  was  turned  over  to  the 
poorhouse  authorities.  He  said  his  name  was 
Dave,  or  Davy,  and  sometimes  added  Porter,  and 
then  Dun-Dun,  and  from  this  he  was  called  Dave 
Porter — a  name  which  suited  him  very  well. 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  PAST  n 

Dave  remained  at  the  poorhouse  until  he  was 
about  nine  years  old,  when  he  was  taken  out  of 
that  institution  by  a  broken-down  college  professor 
named  Caspar  Potts,  who  had  turned  farmer.  He 
remained  with  the  old  professor  for  several  years, 
and  a  warm  friendship  sprang  up  between  the  pair. 
Caspar  Potts  gave  Dave  a  fair  education,  and,  in 
return,  the  boy  did  all  he  could  for  the  old  man, 
who  was  not  in  the  best  of  health,  and  rather  eccen- 
tric at  times. 

Unfortunately  for  Professor  Potts,  there  was  in 
the  neighborhood  a  hard-hearted  money-lender 
named  Aaron  Poole,  who  had  a  mortgage  on  the 
old  educator's  farm.  The  money-lender  had  a  son 
named  Nat,  who  was  a  flippant  youth,  and  this  boy 
had  trouble  with  Dave.  Then  the  money-lender 
would  have  sold  out  the  old  professor,  had  not 
aid  come  opportunely  from  a  most  unexpected 
quarter. 

In  this  volume  it  is  unnecessary  to  go  into  the 
details  of  how  Dave  became  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Oliver  Wadsworth,  a  rich  manufacturer  of  the 
neighborhood,  and  how  the  boy  saved  Jessie  Wads- 
worth  from  being  burned  to  death  when  the  gaso- 
line tank  of  an  automobile  exploded  and  enveloped 
the  young  miss  in  flames.  For  this  service  the 
Wadsworths  were  all  more  than  grateful,  and  when 
Dave  told  his  story  Oliver  Wadsworth  made  the 
discovery  that  Caspar  Potts  was  one  of  the  pro- 


12     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

fessors  under  whom  he  had  studied  in  his  college 
days. 

"I  must  meet  him  and  talk  this  over,"  said  the 
rich  manufacturer,  and  the  upshot  of  the  matter 
was  that  the  professor  and  Dave  were  invited  to 
dine  at  the  Wadsworth  mansion. 

This  dinner  proved  a  turning  point  in  the  life 
of  the  poorhouse  youth.  Mr.  Wadsworth  had  lost 
a  son  by  death,  and  Dave  reminded  him  strongly 
of  his  boy.  It  was  arranged  that  Caspar  Potts 
should  come  to  live  at  the  Wadsworth  mansion, 
and  that  Dave  should  be  sent  to  some  first-class 
boarding  school,  the  manufacturer  agreeing  to  pay 
all  bills,  because  of  the  boy's  bravery  in  behalf  of 
Jessie. 

Oak  Hall  was  the  school  selected,  a  fine  institu- 
tion, located  not  far  from  the  village  of  Oakdale. 
The  school  was  surrounded  by  oaks,  which  partly 
shaded  a  beautiful  campus,  and  the  grounds,  which 
were  on  a  slight  hill,  sloped  down  in  the  rear  to  the 
Leming  River. 

Dave's  heart  beat  high  when  he  started  off  for 
Oak  Hall,  and  he  had  a  curious  experience  before 
he  reached  that  institution.  The  house  of  a  Senator 
Morr  was  robbed,  and  the  boy  met  the  robber  on 
the  train,  and,  after  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  man- 
aged to  recover  a  valise  containing  a  large  share  of 
the  stolen  goods.  This  threw  Dave  into  the  com- 
pany of  Roger  Morr,  the  senator's  son,  and  the  two 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  PAST  13 

became  warm  friends.  Roger  was  on  his  way  to 
Oak  Hall,  and  it  was  through  him  that  Dave  be- 
came acquainted  with  Phil  Lawrence — reckoned  by 
many  the  leader  of  the  academy;  Maurice  Hamil- 
ton, generally  called  Shadow;  Sam  Day,  Joseph 
Beggs, — who  always  went  by  the  name  of  Buster, 
because  he  was  so  fat, — and  a  number  of  others.  In 
Crumville  Dave  had  had  one  boy  friend,  Ben  Bass- 
wood,  and  Ben  also  came  to  Oak  Hall,  and  so  did 
Nat  Poole,  as  flippant  and  loud-mouthed  as  ever. 

But  Dave  soon  found  out  that  Nat  Poole  was  not 
half  so  hard  to  get  along  with  as  was  Gus  Plum, 
the  big  bully  of  the  Hall.  There  was  a  difference 
of  opinion  almost  from  the  start,  and  Plum  did  all 
he  could  to  annoy  Dave  and  his  friends.  Plum 
wanted  to  be  a  leader  in  baseball  and  in  athletics 
generally,  and  when  he  found  himself  outclassed, 
he  was  savagely  bitter. 

"I'll  get  square!"  he  told  his  toady,  Chip 
Macklin,  more  than  once;  but  his  plans  to  injure 
Dave  and  his  chums  fell  through,  and,  in  the  end, 
Macklin  became  disgusted  with  the  bully  and  left 
him.  Most  of  the  boys  wanted  nothing  to  do  with 
the  boy  who  had  been  the  bully's  toady,  but  Dave 
put  in  a  good  word  for  him,  and,  in  the  end, 
Macklin  was  voted  a  pretty  fair  fellow,  after  all. 

With  the  toady  gone,  Gus  Plum  and  Nat  Poole 
became  very  thick,  and  Poole  lost  no  opportunity 
of  telling  how  Dave  had  been  raised  at  the  poor- 


i4    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

house.  Gus  Plum  took  the  matter  up,  and  for  a 
while  poor  Dave  was  made  miserable  by  those  who 
turned  their  backs  on  him.  But  Doctor  Clay,  who 
presided  over  the  academy,  sided  with  Dave,  and 
so  did  all  of  the  better  class  of  students,  and  soon 
the  affair  blew  over,  at  least  for  the  time  being. 
But  now  the  bully  was  agitating  it  again,  as  we 
have  just  seen. 

During  the  winter  term  at  Oak  Hall  one  thing 
of  importance  had  occurred,  of  which  some  par- 
ticulars must  be  given,  for  it  has  much  to  do  with 
our  present  tale.  Some  of  the  boy.s,  including 
Dave,  had  skated  up  the  river  to  what  was  locally 
called  the  old  castle — a  deserted  stone  dwelling 
standing  in  a  wilderness  of  trees.  They  had  arrived 
at  this  structure  just  in  time  to  view  a  quarrel  be- 
tween two  men — one  a  sleek-looking  fellow  and 
the  other  an  elderly  man,  dressed  in  the  garb  of  a 
sailor.  The  sleek-looking  individual  was  the  man 
who  had  robbed  Senator  Morr's  house,  and  just  as 
he  knocked  the  old  sailor  senseless  to  the  ground, 
the  boys  rushed  in  and  made  him  a  prisoner. 

When  the  old  sailor  came  to  his  senses,  he  stared 
at  Dave  as  if  the  boy  were  a  ghost.  He  said  his 
name  was  Billy  Dill  and  that  he  had  sailed  the 
South  Seas  and  many  other  portions  of  the  briny 
deep.  He  insisted  that  he  knew  Dave  well,  and 
wanted  to  know  why  the  youth  had  shaved  off  his 
mustache.     The  boys  imagined  that  the  tar  was 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  PAST  15 

out  of  his  head,  and  he  was  removed  to  a  hospital. 
Later  on,  as  Dave  was  so  interested  in  the  man, 
Mr.  Wadsworth  had  him  taken  to  a  private  sani- 
tarium. Here  he  lingered  for  awhile  between  life 
and  death,  but  at  last  grew  better  physically,  al- 
though his  mind  was  sadly  unbalanced,  and  he 
could  recall  the  past  only  in  a  hazy  way. 

Yet  he  insisted  upon  it,  over  and  over  again, 
that  he  had  met  Dave  before,  or,  if  not  the  youth, 
then  somebody  who  looked  exactly  like  him,  al- 
though older.  Pressed  to  tell  his  story,  he  said  he 
had  met  this  man  on  Cavasa  Island,  in  the  South 
Seas.  He  also  mentioned  a  crazy  nurse  and  a  lost 
child,  but  could  give  no  details,  going  off  immedi- 
ately into  a  wild  flight  about  the  roaring  of  the  sea 
in  his  ears  and  the  dancing  of  the  lighthouse  beacon 
in  his  eyes. 

"He  must  know  something  of  my  past,"  Dave 
said,  when  he  came  away  from  visiting  the  old  tar. 
"Oh,  if  only  his  mind  were  perfectly  clear!" 

"We  must  wait,"  answered  Oliver  Wadsworth, 
who  was  along.  "I  think  his  mind  will  clear  after 
awhile.  It  is  certainly  clearer  now  than  it  was 
some  months  ago." 

"The  man  he  knows  may  be  my  father,  or  some 
close  relative." 

"That  may  be  true,  Dave.  But  don't  raise  any 
false  hopes.  I  should  not  like  to  see  you  disap- 
pointed for  the  world." 


16    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Dave  knew  that  Phil  Lawrence's  father  was  a 
shipping  merchant  of  considerable  standing,  own- 
ing an  interest  in  a  great  number  of  vessels.  He 
went  to  Phil  and  learned  that  the  boy  was  going  to 
take  a  trip  to  the  South  Seas  that  very  summer,  and 
was  going  to  stop  at  Cavasa  Island. 

"I  am  going  on  business  for  my  father,"  ex- 
plained Phil.  "It  is  something  special,  of  which  he 
wishes  the  supercargo  to  know  nothing."  And  then 
he  told  Dave  all  he  knew  of  Cavasa  Island  and  its 
two  towns  and  their  inhabitants.  After  that,  Dave 
sent  a  letter  to  both  of  the  towns,  asking  if  there 
were  any  persons  there  by  the  name  of  Porter,  or  if 
any  English-speaking  person  had  lost  a  child  years 
ago,  but  so  far  no  answer  had  been  received. 

Of  course,  Phil  wanted  to  know  why  Dave  was 
so  anxious  to  learn  about  his  proposed  trip,  and, 
in  the  end,  the  poorhouse  boy  told  his  story,  to 
which  his  chum  listened  with  interest. 

"Phil,  what  would  you  say  if  I  wanted  to  go 
with  you  on  that  trip  to  Cavasa  Island?"  Dave 
had  said,  after  his  story  was  finished. 

"Do  you  really  mean  it,  Dave?"  had  been  the 
return  question,  and  Phil's  face  had  shown  his 
astonishment. 

"I  do — if  matters  turn  out  as  I  think  they  may." 

"That  is,  if  that  old  sailor  gets  around  so  that 
he  can  tell  a  pretty  straight  story?" 

"Yes." 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  PAST  17 

"Well,  I'd  like  your  company,  first-rate.  But — " 
Phil  drew  a  deep  breath — "I'd  hate  to  see  you 
go  on  a  wild-goose  chase.  Think  of  traveling  thou- 
sands of  miles  and  then  being  disappointed  at  the 
end  of  the  trip.  That  old  sailor  may  simply  be 
crazy." 

"I  don't  think  so.  Why  should  he  mention  a 
lost  child — a  boy?" 

"Well,  that  is  the  only  thing  that  makes  it  look 
as  if  there  was  something  in  the  story.  But  could- 
n't I  do  the  looking  for  you?" 

"No,  I'd  prefer  to  do  that  myself.  Besides,  you 
must  remember,  that  sailor  did  not  come  directly 
from  Cavasa  Island  to  this  country.  So,  whoever 
was  on  the  island — I  mean  the  person  I  may  be  in- 
terested in — may  have  gone  elsewhere — in  which 
case  I  should  want  to  follow  him." 

"I  see.  Well,  Dave,  do  what  you  think  is  best, 
and  may  good  luck  go  with  you!"  Phil  had  said; 
and  there  the  conversation  on  the  subject  had  come 
to  a  close. 

It  was  not  until  a  week  later  that  Dave  had 
called  on  Billy  Dill  again — to  find  the  old  tar 
sitting  on  a  porch  of  the  sanitarium,  smoking  his 
pipe  contentedly. 

"On  deck  again,  my  hearty !"  had  been  the  greet- 
ing. "Give  us  your  flipper,"  and  a  warm  hand- 
shake had  followed. 

But  the  visit  had  been  productive  of  little  good. 


18     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Billy  Dill  could  remember  nothing  clearly,  except- 
ing that  he  knew  a  man  who  looked  very  much  like 
Dave,  and  that  that  man  had  been  his  friend  while 
he  was  stranded  on  Cavasa  Island  and  looking  for 
a  chance  to  ship.  He  said  he  could  recall  a  bark 
named  the  Mary  Sacord  and  a  crazy  nurse  called 
Polly,  but  that  was  all. 

"I  had  a  picter  o'  that  man  once — the  feller  that 
looks  like  you,"  he  said.  "But  I  dunno  what's 
become  o'  it,"  and  then  he  had  scratched  his  head 
and  gone  off  into  a  rambling  mumble  that  meant 
nothing  at  all.  And  Dave  had  gone  back  to  Oak 
Hall  more  mvstified  than  ever. 


CHAPTER    III 

THREE    CHUMS    ON   THE    RIVER 

Down  at  the  boathouse  the  three  boys  procured 
a  round-bottomed  rowboat,  and  were  soon  on  the 
river.  Roger  took  one  pair  of  oars  and  motioned 
to  Phil  to  let  Dave  take  the  other. 

"Let  him  do  the  most  of  the  rowing — it  will  help 
him  to  forget  his  troubles,"  he  whispered,  and 
Phil  understood. 

It  was  a  beautiful  afternoon  in  the  early  sum- 
mer, with  just  the  faintest  breeze  stirring  the  trees 
which  lined  the  river  bank  on  either  side.  The 
boys  pulled  a  good  stroke,  and  Roger  purposely 
kept  Dave  at  it,  until  both  were  thoroughly 
warmed  up. 

"You're  improving  in  your  stroke,"  remarked 
Dave,  as  they  came  to  a  bend  in  the  watercourse 
and  rested  on  their  oars  for  a  minute.  "Perhaps 
you  are  training  for  the  boat  races." 

"Well,  I  shouldn't  mind  going  into  a  race,"  re- 
turned the  senator's  son.  "It  would  be  lots  of 
sport,  even  if  I  didn't  win." 

"I  am  going  into  some  of  the  field  contests  this 
19 


20    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

summer,"  said  Phil.  "That  is,  if  they  come  off 
before  I  go  away." 

"When  do  you  expect  to  start?" 

"I  don't  know  yet.  It  depends  upon  when  one 
of  my  father's  vessels  gets  back  to  San  Francisco 
and  ships  her  cargo." 

"I've  heard  a  rumor  that  the  Hall  is  to  be  shut 
up  early  this  summer,"  said  Dave.  "The  doctor  is 
thinking  of  building  an  addition  before  the  fall 
term  begins,  and  he  wants  to  give  the  masons  and 
carpenters  as  much  of  a  show  as  possible." 

"Do  you  remember  that  day  we  were  on  the 
river,  and  Gus  Plum  ran  into  us  with  that  gasoline 
launch?"  observed  Phil.  "My,  what  a  mess  we 
were  in !" 

"I've  had  trouble  with  him  ever  since  I  clapped 
eyes  on  him,"  answered  Dave. 

"Oh,  let's  talk  about  something  else!"  cried 
Roger.  "No  matter  where  we  start  from,  we  al- 
ways end  up  with  Gus  Plum.  And,  by  the  way, 
do  you  notice  how  thick  he  is  with  Nat  Poole  since 
Macklin  has  refused  to  toady  to  him?" 

"They  are  almost  of  a  stripe,  Roger,"  answered 
Dave.  "I  know  Nat  Poole  thoroughly.  The  only 
difference  is  that  Poole  is  more  of  a  dandy  when  it 
comes  to  dress." 

"Poole  says  he  is  going  in  for  athletics  this  sum- 
mer," said  Phil.  "I  overheard  him  telling  Luke 
Watson  so." 


THREE  CHUMS  ON  THE  RIVER         21 

"Is  Luke  going  into  training?" 

"I  don't  think  so.  He  loves  his  banjo  and  guitar 
too  much." 

"Well,  I'd  love  them,  too,  if  I  could  play  as  he 
does,"  returned  Dave. 

"Luke  told  me  he  had  noticed  something  strange 
about  Shadow,"  put  in  Roger.  "He  asked  me  if  I 
knew  what  made  Shadow  so  worried.  He  said  he 
hadn't  heard  a  funny  story  out  of  him  for  a  week, 
and  that's  unusual,  for  Shadow  is  generally  telling 
about  a  dozen  a  day." 

"It  is  possible  that  he  may  be  fixing  for  a 
regular  spell  of  sickness,"  was  Dave's  comment. 
"That's  the  way  some  things  come  on,  you 
know." 

The  boys  resumed  their  rowing,  and  Roger  put 
on  a  burst  of  speed  that  made  Dave  work  with  a 
will  in  order  to  keep  up  with  him.  Then,  of  a 
sudden,  there  came  a  sharp  click  and  the  senator's 
son  tumbled  over  backwards,  splashing  the  water 
in  every  direction. 

"Whoop  !  look  out !"  yelled  Phil.  "I  don't  want 
any  shower-bath!     Did  you  catch  a  crab,  Roger?" 

"N-no,  I  didn't,"  spluttered  the  senator's  son, 
when  he  had  regained  a  sitting  position.  "There's 
the  trouble,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  broken  oarlock.. 

"That's  too  bad,"  declared  Dave.  "Boys,  we 
shall  have  to  have  that  fixed  before  we  take  the  boat 
back  to  the  boathouse — or  else  we'll  have  to  tell 


22     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Mr.  Dale."  The  man  he  mentioned  was  the  first 
assistant  instructor  at  the  Hall. 

"Let  us  row  down  to  Ike  Rasmer's  boathouse 
and  see  if  he  will  sell  us  an  oarlock,"  suggested 
Roger.     "He  ought  to  have  plenty  on  hand." 

"All  right,"  said  Phil;  "and,  as  both  of  you  must 
be  tired  now,  I'll  take  my  turn,"  and  he  motioned 
to  Dave  to  change  seats  with  him,  while  Roger 
drew  in  his  remaining  oar. 

The  man  whom  Roger  had  mentioned  was  a 
boatman  who  rented  out  craft  of  various  kinds. 
His  boathouse  was  about  half  a  mile  away,  but 
Phil  covered  the  distance  with  ease.  They  found 
Rasmer  out  on  his  little  dock,  painting  a  tiny  sloop 
a  dark  green. 

"How  do  you  do,  boys?"  he  called  out,  pleas- 
antly.   "Out  for  an  airing?" 

"No,  we  came  down  to  see  if  you  needed  any 
painters,"  answered  Dave. 

"Well,  I  dunno.  What  do  you  think  of  this  job 
of  mine?  Ain't  it  pretty  slick?"  And  Ike  Rasmer 
surveyed  his  work  with  evident  satisfaction. 

"It's  all  right,  Ike,"  answered  Roger.  "When 
you  give  up  boating,  take  to  house-painting,  by  all 
means." 

"House-painting?"  snorted  the  man.  "Not  fer 
me !  I  ain't  goin'  to  fall  off  no  slippery  ladder  an' 
break  my  neck.  I'd  rather  paint  signs.  What's 
that  you've  got,  a  broken  oarlock?" 


THREE  CHUMS  ON  THE  RIVER         23 

"Yes,  and  I  want  to  know  if  you'll  sell  me  one 
to  match?" 

"Sure  I  will,"  answered  Ike  Rasmer,  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye.  He  threw  down  his  paint  brush 
and  walked  into  his  boathouse.  "Here  you  be,  my 
boy!"  And  he  held  up  the  parts  of  a  broken  oar- 
lock. 

"Well — I — I  didn't  want  a  broken  one,"  stam- 
mered the  senator's  son. 

"Didn't  ye  say  you  wanted  one  to  match?  Ho, 
ho!  I  reckon  I  cotched  you  that  trip,  didn't  I?" 
And  the  man  continued  to  laugh,  and  Dave  and 
Phil  joined  in. 

"Ike  must  have  swallowed  a  whetstone  this 
morning,"  observed  Dave. 

"A  whetstone?"  queried  the  old  boatman. 
"Why?" 

"You're  so  awfully  sharp." 

"Ho,  ho !  That's  one  on  me,  sure  enough." 
The  man  slapped  Dave  on  the  shoulder.  "You 
Hall  boys  are  the  cute  ones,  ain't  ye?  Well,  if  you 
want  a  good  oarlock,  you  shall  have  it,"  and  he 
brought  forth  a  number,  that  Roger  might  make 
his  selection.  The  senator's  son  did  so,  and  paid 
for  it  out  of  his  pocket-money. 

"We  ought  to  pay  for  part  of  that,"  said  Dave, 
always  ready  to  do  what  was  fair. 

"Oh,  don't  bother,  Dave;  it's  only  a  trifle,"  an- 
swered his  chum. 


24    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Say,  some  of  you  boys  are  out  pretty  late 
nights,"  observed  Ike  Rasmer,  as  he  resumed  his 
painting,  and  while  Roger  was  adjusting  the  new 
oarlock  to  the  gunwale  of  the  Hall  boat. 

"Out  late?"  queried  Phil. 

"Yes,  mighty  late." 

"I  haven't  been  out  for  a  month." 

"Nor  I,"  added  Dave  and  Roger. 

"I  see  that  young  Hamilton  not  long  ago — the 
fellow  that  tells  stories  whenever  he  can  get  the 
chance.    And  I  saw  Gus  Plum,  too." 

"Together?"  asked  Dave,  with  sudden  interest. 

"Oh,  no.    But  they  were  out  the  same  night." 

"Late?" 

"I  should  say  so — after  twelve  o'clock." 

"What  were  they  doing,  Ike?"  asked  Phil. 

"Rowing  along  the  river.  Each  had  a  small 
boat — I  guess  one  from  the  school.  It  was  bright 
moonlight,  and  I  saw  them  quite  plainly  when  they 
passed  Robbin's  Point,  where  I  was  fishing." 

"And  each  was  alone?" 

"Yes.  Hamilton  was  right  ahead  of  Plum,  and 
both  rowing  along  at  good  speed,  too.  I  thought 
it  was  mighty  strange,  and  made  up  my  mind  I'd 
ask  you  boys  about  it.  But,  say,  I  don't  want  you 
to  get  them  into  trouble,"  added  the  old  boatman, 
suddenly.  "They  are  both  customers  of  mine, 
sometimes." 

"I  shan't  say  anything,"  answered  Roger.    "But 


THREE  CHUMS  ON  THE  RIVER         25 

this  puzzles  me,"  he  continued,  turning  to  his 
friends. 

"Each  boy  was  alone  in  a  boat?"  queried  Dave. 

"Yes." 

"And  Plum  was  following  Hamilton?" 

"He  seemed  to  be.  Anyway,  his  boat  was  behind 
the  other." 

"Was  anybody  else  around?"  asked  Phil. 

"I  didn't  see  a  soul,  and  the  river  was  almost 
as  bright  as  day." 

"Did  you  see  them  a  second  time?"  asked  Dave. 

"No,  for  I  was  getting  ready  to  go  home  when 
they  came  along.  I  don't  know  where  they  went, 
or  when  they  got  back." 

Ike  Rasmer  could  tell  no  more  than  this,  and  as 
it  was  getting  late  the  three  boys  lost  no  time  in 
shoving  off  once  more  and  pulling  for  the  Hall 
boathouse. 

"This  stumps  me,"  declared  the  senator's  son. 
"What  do  you  make  of  it?  Do  you  think  Shadow 
and  Plum  are  up  to  something  between  them?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  answered  Dave,  decidedly. 
"Shadow  is  not  the  fellow  to  train  with  Gus  Plum. 
He  doesn't  like  the  bully  any  more  than  we  do." 

"No  wonder  Shadow  feels  sleepy,  if  he  spends 
his  nights  on  the  river,"  said  Phil.  "But  I  can't 
make  out  what  he  is  up  to,  I  must  confess.  If  it 
was  some  fun,  he  would  surely  take  somebody  with 
him." 


26    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

The  boys  pulled  with  all  their  strength,  yet  when 
they  arrived  at  the  Hall  boathouse,  they  found  that 
they  were  exactly  twelve  minutes  behind  the  supper 
hour. 

uNo  time  to  wash  up,"  said  Roger.  "We'll  be 
lucky  if  we  can  slip  into  the  dining  room  without 
being  observed." 

With  all  speed  they  tied  up  their  craft  and  ran 
for  the  school  building.  They  were  just  entering 
the  side  door  when  they  were  brought  face  to  face 
with  Job  Haskers,  the  second  assistant  teacher  and 
a  man  who  was  very  dictatorial  in  his  manner. 

"Stop!"  cried  Job  Haskers,  catching  Dave  by 
the  shoulder.  "What  do  you  mean  by  coming  in 
at  this  hour?" 

"We  were  out  on  the  river  and  broke  an  oarlock, 
Mr.  Haskers,"  replied  Dave. 

"Humph!  an  old  excuse." 

"It  is  the  truth,  sir,"  and  Dave's  face  flushed. 

"I  broke  the  oarlock,"  said  Roger.  "We  got 
back  as  soon  as  we  could — as  soon  as  we  got  a  new 
lock  at  Ike  Rasmer's  boathouse." 

"We  cannot  allow  pupils  to  come  in  half  an  hour 
late,"  went  on  Job  Haskers,  loftily.  "Directly 
after  supper,  report  to  me  in  classroom  7,"  and  he 
passed  on. 

"We  are  in  for  it  now,"  grumbled  Phil.  "It's 
a  shame!  It  wasn't  our  fault  that  the  oarlock 
broke." 


THREE  CHUMS  ON  THE  RIVER         27 

"Wonder  what  he  will  make  us  do?"  came  from 
the  senator's  son. 

"Something  not  very  pleasant,"  answered  Dave. 
He  had  encountered  the  second  assistant  many 
times  before  and  knew  the  harsh  instructor  well. 

They  were  soon  in  their  seats  at  the  table.  Some 
of  the  other  students  looked  at  them  inquiringly, 
but  nothing  was  said.  Not  far  from  Dave  sat  Gus 
Plum  and  Nat  Poole,  and  both  favored  the  poor 
boy  with  a  scowl,  to  which  Dave  paid  no  attention. 

The  meal  finished,  Dave,  Phil,  and  the  senator's 
son  brushed  up  a  bit,  and  then  hurried  to  classroom 
7,  located  in  an  angle  of  the  building.  They  were 
soon  joined  by  Job  Haskers. 

"The  three  of  you  may  remain  here  and  each 
write  the  word  'Oarlock'  two  hundred  times,"  said 
the  second  assistant.  "As  soon  as  all  of  you  have 
finished,  ring  the  bell,  and  I  will  come  and  inspect 
the  work.  It  must  be  neatly  done,  or  I  shall  make 
you  do  it  over  again."  And  then  he  left  them  to 
themselves,  going  out  and  closing  the  door  tightly 
after  him. 


CHAPTER    IV 

A    PLOT   TO    "SQUARE    UP" 

"Phew!  but  this  is  a  real  picnic!"  ca«me  softly 
from  Phil.  "He's  as  kind  as  they  make  'em, 
isn't  he?" 

"It's  a  jolly  shame,"  grumbled  the  senator's  son. 
"To  make  us  stay  in  this  stuffy  classroom  on  such 
a  line  evening  as  this." 

"I  am  glad  I  finished  with  my  lessons,"  was 
Dave's  comment.  "But  I  am  sorry  for  you  two. 
But,  as  there  is  no  help  for  it,  we  might  as  well 
get  to  work.  The  sooner  begun,  the  sooner  done, 
you  know."  And  he  began  to  write  away  vigor- 
ously on  one  of  the  pads  the  teacher  had  pointed 
out  to  them. 

"I  wish  old  Haskers  had  to  write  it  himself," 
growled  Roger,  as  he,  too,  went  at  the  task.  "Oh, 
but  isn't  he  the  mean  one!  I  don't  see  why  the 
doctor  keeps  him." 

"He's  smart,  that's  why,"  answered  Phil.  "I 
wish  we  could  get  square  for  this.  I'm  sure  Doctor 
Clay  would  have  excused  us,  had  he  known  the 
facts.    I've  a  good  mind  to  go  to  him  about  it." 

"Don't  you  do  it,  Phil,"  cried  Dave.  "It's  not 
28 


A  PLOT  TO  "SQUARE  UP"  29 

worth  it.  Get  to  work — and  we'll  think  about 
squaring  up  afterwards." 

In  a  minute  more  all  three  of  the  boys  were 
writing  as  rapidly  as  their  fingers  could  travel  over 
the  paper.  Roger  was  the  best  penman  of  the 
three  and  finished  several  minutes  before  the  others. 
He  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room,  whistling 
softly  to  himself. 

uYes,  I  go  in  for  squaring  up  with  old  Haskers," 

he  said,  rather  loudly.    "He's  about  as  mean " 

And  then  he  stopped  short,  as  the  door  swung  open 
and  the  second  assistant  appeared. 

"Huh!"  he  snorted.  "Were  you  alluding  to 
me,  Master  Morr?"  he  demanded. 

Roger  stammered,  and  his  face  turned  red. 

"Her — here  are  the  words,"  he  stammered. 

"Two  hundred,  eh?  Well,  you  may  write  a 
hundred  more,  and  after  this  be  careful  of  what 
you  say."  And  then  Job  Haskers  turned  to  Dave 
and  Phil.     "That  is  all  right,  you  two  can  go." 

"Can  I  stay  with  Roger?"  asked  Dave. 

"No,  I  shall  remain  here  myself,"  was  the  cold 
answer,  and  then  Dave  and  Phil  had  to  leave. 

"I'll  wager  Roger  feels  like  hugging  him,"  was 
Phil's  comment.  "He  will  want  to  get  square  now, 
sure." 

The  two  boys  went  out  on  the  campus  for  awhile 
and  then  up  to  their  dormitory,  where  they  found 
a  small  crowd  assembled,  some  talking,  and  a  few 


30    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

studying.  The  door  to  the  adjoining  dormitory 
was  open,  and  there  Luke  Watson  was  playing  on 
a  banjo,  while  another  student  was  singing  a  negro 
song  in  a  subdued  voice. 

"I  say,  Dave,  will  you  explain  something  to 
me?"  said  a  voice  from  a  corner.  The  question 
came  from  Chip  Macklin,  Gus  Plum's  former 
toady.  The  small  boy  was  working  over  a  sheet 
of  algebra  sums. 

"Certainly,"  said  Dave,  readily,  and  sat  down 
by  the  other's  side.  "Now,  what  is  it?  Oh,  I 
see.  I  got  twisted  on  that  myself  once.  This  is 
the  proper  equation,  and  you  can  reduce  it  this 
way,"  and  he  was  soon  deep  in  the  problem,  with 
Chip  looking  on  admiringly.  When  the  problem 
had  been  worked  out  and  explained  in  detail,  the 
small  boy  was  very  grateful. 

"And,  Dave,"  he  went  on,  in  a  low  tone,  "I — I 
want  to  tell  you  something.  Be  on  your  guard 
against  Plum  and  Nat  Poole." 

"Why?" 

"Because  they  are  plotting  mischief.  I  heard 
them  talking  in  the  gym.  I  don't  know  what  it  is 
about,  but  they  are  surely  up  to  something." 

"I'll  remember,  Chip,  and  much  obliged,"  an- 
swered Dave,  and  then  he  turned  to  the  other 
boys,  leaving  the  small  youth  to  finish  his  ex- 
amples. 

"Hello,  where  have  you  been?"  came  from  stout 


A  PLOT  TO  "SQUARE  UP"  31 

and  lazy  Buster  Beggs.  He  was  sprawled  out  on 
the  end  of  a  couch.  "I  noticed  you  didn't  get  to 
supper  till  late,  and  went  right  off,  directly  you  had 
finished." 

"Had  a  special  session  with  Haskers,"  answered 
Dave.  "He  wants  me  to  improve  my  handwrit- 
ing." 

There  was  a  smile  at  this,  for  all  the  boys  knew 
what  it  meant. 

"Oh,  that  fellow  is  a  big  peach,  he  is!"  came 
from  Sam  Day,  who  sat  in  one  of  the  windows. 
"Yesterday,  he  made  me  stay  in  just  because  I  asked 
Tolliver  for  a  lead  pencil." 

"He  was  mad  because  Polly  Vane  caught  him 
in  an  error  in  grammar,"  added  another  youth. 
"Didn't  you,  Polly?"  he  added,  addressing  a  rather 
girlish-looking  boy  who  sat  near  Chip  Macklin. 

"I  did,"  was  the  soft  answer.  "It  was  rather  a 
complicated  sentence,  but  perfectly  clear  to  me," 
explained  the  boy. 

"I  don't  wonder,  for  Polly  fairly  lives  on  gram- 
mar and  language,"  put  in  Phil.  "I  don't  believe 
anybody  could  trip  him  up,"  and  this  compliment 
made  Bertram  Vane  blush  like  a  girl.  He  was  in 
reality  one  of  the  best  scholars  in  the  academy. 

"Which  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  story,"  came  from 
one  of  the  cots.     "An " 

"Hello,  are  you  awake,  Shadow?"  cried  Sam 
Day.     "I  thought  you  were  snoozing." 


32     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"So  I  was,  but  I  am  slept  out,  and  feel  better  now. 
As  I  was  saying,  an  old  farmer  and  a  college  pro- 
fessor went  out  rowing  together.  Says  the  college 
professor,  'Can  you  do  sums  in  algebra?'  'No,' 
answers  the  farmer.  'Then  you  have  missed  a 
great  opportunity,'  says  the  professor.  Just  then 
the  boat  struck  a  rock  and  went  over.  'Save  me  1' 
yells  the  professor.  'Can't  you  swim?'  asked  the 
farmer.  'No.'  'Then  you  have  lost  the  chance  of 
your  life!'  says  the  farmer,  and  strikes  out  and 
leaves  the  professor  to  take  care  of  himself." 

"Two  hundredth  time!"  came  in  a  solemn  voice 
from  the  doorway  to  the  next  room. 

"Wha — what  do  you  mean?  I  never  told  any 
story  two  hundred  times,"  cried  Shadow  Hamilton. 
"And  that  puts  me  in  mind " 

"Shadow,  if  you  tell  another  as  bad  as  that,  I'll 
heave  you  out  of  the  window,"  came  from  Sam 
Day.     "That  has  moss  on  it  three  inches  th " 

"Oh,  I  know  you,  Lazy;  you're  jealous,  that's 
all.  You  couldn't  tell  a  story  if  you  stood  on  your 
head." 

"Can  you,  Shadow?"  and  then  a  general  laugh 
went  up,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  door  opened, 
and  Job  Haskers  entered.  On  catching  sight  of 
the  unpopular  teacher,  Sam  Day  lost  no  time  in 
sliding  from  the  window-sill  to  a  chair. 

"Boys,  we  cannot  permit  so  much  noise  up 
here!"  cried  Job  Haskers.     "And  that  constant 


A  PLOT  TO  "SQUARE  UP"  33 

strumming  on  a  banjo  must  be  stopped.  Master 
Day,  were  you  sitting  in  the  window?" 

"I — er — I  think  I  was,"  stammered  Sam. 

"You  are  aware  that  is  against  the  rules.  If  you 
fell  out,  the  Hall  management  would  be  held  re- 
sponsible. After  school  to-morrow  you  can  write  the 
words,  'Window-sill,'  two  hundred  times.  Hamil- 
ton, get  up,  and  straighten  out  that  cot  properly. 
I  am  ashamed  of  you."  And  then  the  hated  teacher 
passed  on  to  the  next  dormitory. 

"I  told  you  to  get  out  of  the  window,"  said 
Macklin,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone.  "I  was 
caught  that  way  myself  once,  and  so  was  Gus 
Plum." 

"Lazy  is  going  to  learn  how  to  write  a  little  bet- 
ter, too,"  said  Dave,  with  a  grin. 

At  that  moment  Roger  came  in,  looking  thor- 
oughly disgusted. 

"Made  me  write  half  of  it  over  again,"  he  ex- 
plained. "Oh,  it's  simply  unbearable !  Say,  I  am 
going  to  do  something  to  get  square,  as  sure  as 
eggs  is  eggs." 

"Eggs  are  eggs,"  corrected  Polly  Vane,  sweetly. 

"Oh,  thanks,  Polly.  What  about  a  tailor's 
goose?" 

"Eh?" 

"If  one  tailor's  goose  is  a  goose,  what  are  half 
a  dozen?" 

"Tailor's  geese,  I  suppose — but,  no,  you'd  not 


34    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

say  that.  Let  me  see,"  and  the  girlish  youth  dove 
into  his  books.  "That's  a  serious  question,  truly!" 
he  murmured. 

"Well,  I  am  willing  to  get  square,  too,"  put  in 
Sam  Day. 

"So  am  I,"  grunted  Shadow  Hamilton.  "There 
was  no  need  to  call  me  down  as  he  did,  simply  be- 
cause the  cot  was  mussed  up  a  bit.  The  question 
is,  what's  to  be  done?" 

The  boys  paused  and  looked  at  each  other. 
Then  a  sudden  twinkle  came  into  Dave's  clear 
eyes. 

"If  we  could  do  it,  it  would  be  great,"  he  mur- 
mured. 

"Do  what,  Dave?"  asked  several  at  once. 

"I  don't  care  to  say,  unless  I  am  certain  we  are 
all  going  to  stand  together." 

"We  are !"  came  in  a  chorus  from  all  but  Polly 
Vane,  who  was  still  deep  in  his  books. 

"What  about  you,  Polly?"  called  out  Roger. 

"Me?  Why — er — if  a  tailor's  goose  is  a  real 
goose,  not  a  flatiron  goose " 

"Oh,  drop  the  goose  business.  We  are  talking 
about  getting  square  with  Haskers.  Will  you 
stand  with  the  crowd?" 

"You  see,  we  don't  want  to  make  gooses  of 
ourselves,"  said  Phil,  with  a  wink  at  Polly  Vane. 

"I'll  stand  by  you,"  said  Polly.  "But  please 
don't  ask  me  to  do  something  ridiculous,  as  when 


A  PLOT  TO  "SQUARE  UP"  35 

we  dumped  that  feather  bed  down  from  the  third- 
story  landing,  and  caught  those  visitors,  instead  of 
Pop  Swingly." 

"I  was  only  thinking  of  Farmer  Cadmore's 
ram,"  said  Dave,  innocently.  "He  is  now  tied  up 
in  a  field  below  here.  I  don't  think  he  likes  to  be 
out  over  night.  He'd  rather  be  under  shelter — 
say  in  Mr.  Haskers'  room." 

"Whoop  !"  cried  Roger.  "Just  the  thing!  We 
will  store  him  away  in  old  Haskers'  closet." 

This  plan  met  with  instant  approval,  and  the 
boys  drew  straws  as  to  which  of  them  should  en- 
deavor to  execute  the  rather  difficult  undertaking. 
Three  were  to  go,  and  the  choice  fell  upon  Dave, 
Phil,  and  Sam  Day.  The  others  promised  to  re- 
main on  guard  and  issue  a  warning  at  the  first  inti- 
mation of  danger. 

"I  think  the  coast  will  be  fairly  clear,"  said  Sam 
Day.  "I  heard  Haskers  tell  Doctor  Clay  he  was 
going  out  to-night  and  would  not  be  back  until 
eleven,  or  after.  That  ought  to  give  us  plenty 
of  time  in  which  to  do  the  trick." 

The  three  boys  could  not  leave  the  dormitory 
until  the  monitor,  Jim  Murphy,  had  made  the 
rounds  and  seen  to  it  that  all  was  right  for  the 
night  and  the  lights  put  out.  Then  they  stole  out 
into  the  hallway  and  down  a  back  stairs.  Soon 
they  were  out  of  the  building  and  making  for 
Farmer  Cadmore's  place. 


36    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

As  they  left  the  Hall  they  did  not  see  that  they 
were  being  watched,  yet  such  was  a  fact.  Nat 
Poole  had  been  out  on  a  special  errand  and  had 
seen  them  depart.  At  once  that  student  hurried  to 
tell  his  friend,  Gus  Plum. 

"Going  out,  eh?"  said  the  big  bully. 

"Yes,  and  I  heard  them  say  something  about 
making  it  warm  when  they  got  back,"  returned 
Nat  Poole. 

"Humph !  Nat,  we  must  put  a  spoke  in  their 
wheel." 

"I'm  willing.    What  shall  we  do  ?" 

"I'll  think  something  up — before  they  get  back," 
replied  the  bully  of  Oak  Hall.  "They  haven't 
any  right  to  be  out,  and  I  guess  we've  got  'em  just 
where  we  want  'em." 


CHAPTER   V 

WHAT   THE    PLOT    LED   TO 

It  was  a  clear  night,  with  no  moon,  but  with 
countless  stars  bespangling  the  heavens.  All  was 
quiet  around  Oak  Hall,  and  the  three  boys  found 
it  an  easy  matter  to  steal  across  the  campus,  gain 
the  shade  of  a  row  of  oaks,  and  get  out  on  the  side 
road  leading  to  the  Cadmore  farm. 

"We  don't  want  to  get  nabbed  at  this,"  was 
Phil's  comment.  "If  Farmer  Cadmore  caught  us, 
he  would  make  it  mighty  warm.  He's  as  irritable 
as  old  Farmer  Brown,  and  you'll  remember  what 
a  time  we  had  with  him  and  his  calf." 

"Does  he  keep  a  dog?"  asked  Dave.  "I  have- 
n't any  use  for  that  sort  of  an  animal,  if  he  is 
savage." 

"No,  he  hasn't  any  dog,"  answered  Phil.  "I 
was  asking  about  it  last  week."  But  Phil  was  mis- 
taken; Jabez  Cadmore  did  have  a  dog — one  he  had 
purchased  a  few  days  before.  He  was  a  good- 
sized  mastiff,  and  far  from  gentle. 

Walking  rapidly,  it  did  not  take  the  three  boys 
long  to  reach  the  first  of  Farmer  Cadmore's  fields. 
This  was  of  corn,    and   passing   through   it  and 

37 


38    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

over  a  potato  patch,  they  came  to  an  orchard, 
wherein  they  knew  the  ram  was  tied  to  one  of  the 
trees. 

"Now,  be  careful  I"  whispered  Dave,  as  he 
leaped  the  rail-fence  of  the  orchard.  "Somebody 
may  be  stirring  around  the  farmhouse" — pointing 
to  the  structure  some  distance  away. 

"Oh,  they  must  be  in  bed  by  this  time,"  said 
Phil.  "Farmers  usually  retire  early.  Cadmore  is 
a  close-fisted  chap,  and  he  won't  want  to  burn  up  his 
oil  or  his  candles." 

With  hearts  which  beat  rather  rapidly,  the  boys 
stole  along  from  one  tree  to  another.  Then  they 
saw  a  form  rise  out  of  the  orchard  grass,  and  all 
gave  a  jump.  But  it  was  only  the  ram,  and  the 
animal  was  more  frightened  than  themselves. 

"Look  out  that  he  doesn't  butt  you,"  warned 
Dave.  "Some  of  'em  are  pretty  rambunc- 
tious." 

They  approached  the  ram  with  caution,  and  un- 
tied him.  Then  Phil  started  to  lead  him  out  of  the 
orchard,  with  Dave  and  Sam  following.  At  first 
he  would  not  go,  but  then  began  to  run,  so  that 
Phil  kept  up  with  difficulty. 

"Stop!"  cried  the  boy.  "Not  so  fast!  Don't 
you  hear?"  But  the  ram  paid  no  attention,  and 
now  turned  to  the  very  end  of  the  orchard.  Here 
the  ground  was  rough,  and  in  a  twinkling  all  three 
of  the  boys  went  down  in  a  hollow  and  rolled  over 


WHAT  THE  PLOT  LED  TO  39 

and  over,  while  the  ram,  finding  himself  free, 
plunged  on,  and  was  hidden  from  view  in  the 
darkness. 

"He  got  away!"  gasped  Phil,  scrambling  up. 
"We  must— Hark!" 

He  stopped  short,  and  all  of  the  boys  listened. 
From  a  distance  came  the  deep  baying  of  the  mas- 
tiff.   The  sounds  drew  closer  rapidly. 

"A  dog — and  he  is  after  us!"  cried  Dave. 
"Fellows,  we  have  got  to  get  out  of  this !" 

"If  we  can!"  replied  Sam  Day.  "Which  is  the 
way  out?     I  am  all  turned  around." 

So  were  the  others,  and  they  stared  into  the 
darkness  under  the  apple  trees  in  perplexity.  The 
dog  was  coming  closer,  and  to  get  away  by  running 
appeared  to  be  out  of  the  question. 

"Jump  into  a  tree!"  cried  Dave,  and  showed 
the  way.  The  others  followed,  clutching  at  some 
low-hanging  branches  and  pulling  themselves  up  as 
rapidly  as  possible.  Dave  and  Sam  were  soon 
safe,  but  the  mastiff,  making  a  bound,  caught  Phil 
by  the  sole  of  his  shoe. 

"Hi !"  roared  Phil.  "Let  go !"  And  he  kicked 
out  with  the  other  foot.  This  made  the  mastiff 
make  another  snap,  but  his  aim  was  poor,  and  he 
dropped  back  to  the  ground,  while  Phil  hauled 
himself  up  beside  his  companions. 

"Phew !  but  that  was  a  narrow  escape  and  no 
mistake,"  was  the  comment  of  the  big  youth,  after 


40    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

he  could  catch  his  breath.  "I  thought  sure  he  had 
me  by  the  foot!" 

"We  are  in  a  pickle,"  groaned  Sam.  "I  suppose 
that  dog  will  camp  right  at  the  foot  of  this  tree  till 
Farmer  Cadmore  comes." 

"Yes,  he  is  camping  now,"  announced  Dave, 
peering  down  into  the  gloom.  The  moment  the 
mastiff  saw  him,  the  canine  set  up  a  loud  barking. 

For  a  full  minute  after  that  none  of  the  boys 
spoke,  each  being  busy  with  his  thoughts. 

"We  are  treed,  that  is  certain,"  said  Phil,  so- 
berly. "And  I  must  say  I  don't  see  any  way  to 
escape." 

"Yes,  and  don't  forget  about  the  ram,"  added 
Sam.  "Old  Jabez  Cadmore  will  want  to  know 
about  him,  too." 

"I've  got  an  idea,"  said  Dave,  presently.  "Per- 
haps it  won't  work,  but  it  won't  do  any  harm  to 
try  it." 

"Give  it  to  us,  by  all  means!" 

"The  trees  are  pretty  thick  in  this  orchard.  Let 
us  try  to  work  our  way  from  one  tree  to  another 
until  we  can  reach  the  fence.  Then,  perhaps,  we 
can  drop  outside  and  get  out  of  the  way  of  that 
animal." 

This  was  considered  a  good  plan,  and  they  pro- 
ceeded to  put  it  into  execution  at  once.  It  was  no 
easy  matter  to  climb  from  tree  to  tree,  and  each 
got  a  small  rent  in  his  clothing,  and  Sam  came  near 


WHAT  THE  PLOT  LED  TO  41 

falling  to  the  ground.  The  mastiff  watched  them 
curiously,  barking  but  little,  much  to  their  satis- 
faction. 

At  last,  they  came  to  the  final  row  of  apple  trees. 
A  long  limb  hung  over  a  barbed-wire  fence,  and 
the  boys  paused,  wondering  if  it  would  be  safe  to 
drop  to  the  ground. 

"If  that  mastiff  should  come  through  the  fence, 
it  would  go  hard  with  us,"  was  Phil's  comment. 
"I'd  rather  stay  up  here  and  take  what  comes." 

"I  am  going  to  risk  it,"  answered  Dave.  "I  see 
a  stick  down  there,  and  I'll  grab  that  as  soon  as  I 
land,"  and  down  he  dropped,  and  caught  up  the 
stick  with  alacrity.  The  dog  pounced  forward, 
struck  the  sharp  barbs  of  the  fence,  and  retreated, 
howling  dismally  with  pain.  Then  he  made  an- 
other advance,  with  like  results. 

"Hurrah!  he  can't  get  through!"  ejaculated 
Dave.  "Come  on,  fellows,  it's  perfectly  safe." 
And  down  his  chums  dropped,  and  all  hurried 
away  from  the  vicinity  of  the  orchard. 

"We  had  better  be  getting  back,"  said  Sam, 
after  the  orchard  and  potato  patch  had  been  left 
behind.  "That  farmer  may  be  coming  after  us 
before  we  know  it.  He  must  have  heard  the  dog." 
But  in  this  he  was  mistaken,  the  distance  from  the 
house  was  too  great,  and  the  farmer  and  his  family 
slept  too  soundly  to  be  disturbed. 

"It's  too  bad  we  must  go  back  without  the  ram," 


42    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

observed  Dave.  "The  other  fellows  will  think  we 
got  scared  and  threw  up  the  job." 

"Well,  it  can't  be  helped,"  began  Phil,  when  he 
caught  sight  of  something  moving  along  the  road 
ahead  of  them.    "Look !    Is  that  the  ram  ?" 

"It  is!"  exclaimed  Dave.  "Wait!  If  you  are 
not  careful,  he'll  run  away  again.  Stay  here,  and 
I'll  catch  him.  I  was  brought  up  on  a  farm,  and  I 
know  all  about  sheep." 

The  others  came  to  a  halt,  and  Dave  advanced 
with  caution  until  he  was  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
ram.  Then  he  held  out  his  hand  and  made  a 
peculiar  sound.  The  ram  grew  curious  and  re- 
mained quiet,  while  the  youth  picked  up  the  end  of 
the  rope  which  was  around  the  animal's  neck. 

"I've  got  him,"  he  said,  in  a  low,  even  tone. 
"Now,  keep  to  the  rear  and  I'll  manage  him." 
And  on  they  went.  Once  in  a  while  the  ram  showed 
a  disposition  to  butt  and  to  stop  short,  but  Dave 
coaxed  him,  and  the  trouble  was  not  great. 

When  they  came  in  sight  of  the  school  building, 
they  realized  that  the  most  difficult  part  of  the 
task  lay  before  them.  It  was  decided  that  Dave 
should  keep  the  ram  behind  the  gymnasium  build- 
ing until  Sam  and  Phil  ascertained  that  the  coast 
was  clear. 

Left  to  himself,  Dave  tied  the  ram  to  a  post  and 
crawled  into  the  gymnasium  by  one  of  the  windows. 
He  procured  several  broad  straps,  and  also  a  small 


WHAT  THE  PLOT  LED  TO  43 

blanket.  Just  as  he  came  out  with  the  things,  Sam 
and  Phil  came  hurrying  back,  each  with  a  look  of 
deep  concern  on  his  face. 

"The  jig  is  up!"  groaned  Sam.  "Plum  and 
Poole  are  on  to  our  racket,  and  they  won't  let 
us  in!" 

"Plum  and  Poole  I"  exclaimed  Dave.  "Are  they 
at  that  back  door?" 

"Yes,  and  when  we  came  up,  they  jeered  us,"  said 
Phil.  "Oh,  but  wasn't  I  mad!  They  said  if  we 
tried  to  force  our  way  in,  they'd  ring  up  the  doctor, 
or  Mr.  Dale." 

"Does  our  crowd  know  about  this?" 

"I  don't  think  they  do." 

"Plum  and  Poole  intend  to  keep  us  out  all  night, 
eh?" 

"It  looks  that  way.  They  said  we  could  ask 
Haskers  to  let  us  in  when  he  came." 

"I  am  not  going  to  Haskers,"  said  Dave,  firmly. 
"Sam,  you  look  after  this  ram  for  a  few  minutes. 
I'll  make  them  let  us  in,  and  not  give  us  away, 
either.     Phil,  you  come  along." 

"But  I  don't  see  how  you  are  going  to  do  it," 
expostulated  the  big  boy. 

"Never  mind;  just  come  on,  that's  all.  Plum 
isn't  going  to  have  a  walk-over  to-night." 

Somewhat  mystified,  Phil  accompanied  Dave 
across  the  campus  and  to  the  rear  door  of  the  Hall. 
Here  the  barrier  was  open  only  a  few  inches,  with 


44    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Plum  peering  out,  and  Poole  behind  him.  The 
face  of  the  bully  wore  a  look  of  triumph. 

"How  do  you  like  staying  out?"  he  whispered, 
hoarsely.  "Fine  night  for  a  ramble,  eh?  You  can 
tell  old  Haskers  what  a  fine  walk  you  have  had ! 
He'll  be  sure  to  reward  you  handsomely!" 

"See  here,  Plum,  I  am  not  going  to  waste  words 
with  you  to-night,"  said  Dave,  in  a  low,  but  intense, 
tone.  "You  let  us  in,  and  at  once,  or  you'll 
regret  it." 

"Willi?" 

"You  will.  And  what  is  more :  don't  you  dare 
to  say  a  word  to  anybody  about  what  is  happening 
now." 

"Oh,  dear,  but  you  can  talk  big!  Maybe  you 
want  me  to  get  down  on  my  knees  as  you  pass  in," 
added  the  bully,  mockingly. 

"If  you  don't  let  us  in,  do  you  know  what  I  shall 
do?"  continued  Dave,  in  a  whisper.  "I  shall  go  to 
Doctor  Clay  and  tell  him  that  you  are  in  the  habit 
of  going  out  after  midnight  to  row  on  the  river." 

If  Dave  had  expected  this  statement  to  have  an 
effect  upon  the  bully,  his  anticipations  were  more 
than  realized.  Gus  Plum  uttered  a  cry  of  dismay 
and  fell  back  on  Nat  Poole's  shoulder.  His  face 
lost  its  color,  and  he  shook  from  head  to  foot. 

"Yo-you "  he  began.     "Wha-what  do  you 

know  about  my — my  rowing  on  the  river?" 

"I  know  a  good  deal." 


WHAT  THE  PLOT  LED  TO  45 

"Yo-you've  been — following — me?"  For  once 
the  bully  could  scarcely  speak. 

"I  shan't  say  any  more,"  said  Dave,  giving  his 
chum  a  pinch  in  the  arm  to  keep  quiet.  "Only,  are 
you  going  to  let  us  in  or  not?" 

"N-no — I  mean,  yes,"  stammered  Gus  Plum. 
He  could  scarcely  collect  himself,  he  seemed  so 
upset.  "You  can  come  in.  Poole,  we'll  have  to  let 
them  in  this  time." 

"And  you  will  keep  still  about  this?"  demanded 
Dave. 

"Yes,  yes!  I  won't  say  a  word,  Porter,  not  a 
word!  And — and  I'll  see  you  to-morrow,  after 
school.  I — that  is — I  want  to  talk  to  you.  Until 
then,  mum's  the  word  on  both  sides."  And  then, 
to  the  astonishment  of  both  Dave  and  Phil,  Gus 
Plum  hurried  away,  dragging  Nat  Poole  with  him. 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE    FUN   OF   A   NIGHT 

"My  gracious,  Plum  acts  as  if  he  was  scared  to 
death,"  observed  Phil,  after  the  bully  and  his  com- 
panion had  departed,  leaving  the  others  a  clear 
field. 

"He  certainly  was  worked  up,"  returned  Dave. 
"I  wonder  what  he'll  have  to  say  to-morrow?" 

There  was  no  answering  that  question,  and  the 
two  boys  hurried  to  where  they  had  left  Sam  with- 
out attempting  to  reach  a  conclusion.  They  found 
their  chum  watching  out  anxiously. 

"Well?"  came  from  his  lips  as  soon  as  he  saw 
them. 

"It's  all  right,"  answered  Dave,  and  told  as 
much  as  he  deemed  necessary.  "Come,  we  must 
hurry,  or  Job  Haskers  will  get  back  before  we  can 
fix  things." 

"This  ram  is  going  to  be  something  to  handle," 
observed  Phil.    "No  'meek  as  a  lamb'  about  him." 

"I'll  show  you  how  to  do  the  trick,"  answered 
the  boy  from  the  country,  and  with  a  dexterous 
turn  of  the  horns,  threw  the  ram  over  on  one  side. 

46 


THE  FUN  OF  A  NIGHT  47 

"Now  sit  on  him,  until  I  tie  his  legs  with  the 
straps." 

In  a  few  minutes  Dave  had  the  animal  secured, 
and  the  blanket  was  placed  over  the  ram's  head, 
that  he  might  not  make  too  much  noise.  Then  they 
hoisted  their  burden  up  between  them  and  started 
toward  the  Hall. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  get  the  ram  upstairs  and 
into  Job  Haskers'  room.  On  the  upper  landing 
they  were  met  by  Roger  and  Buster  Beggs,  who 
declared  the  coast  clear.  Once  in  the  room  of  the 
assistant  teacher,  they  cleared  out  the  bottom  of 
the  closet  and  then,  releasing  the  animal  from  his 
bonds,  thrust  him  inside  and  shut  and  locked  the 
door,  leaving  the  key  in  the  lock. 

"Now,  skip!"  cried  Dave,  in  a  low  voice.  "He 
may  cut  up  high-jinks  in  another  minute." 

"Here  is  an  apple  he  can  have — that  will  keep 
him  quiet  for  awhile,"  said  Roger,  and  put  it 
in  the  closet,  locking  the  door  as  before.  The  ram 
was  hungry,  and  began  to  munch  the  fruit  with 
satisfaction. 

A  few  minutes  more  found  the  boys  safe  in  their 
dormitory,  where  they  waited  impatiently  for  the 
second  assistant  teacher  to  get  back  to  Oak  Hall. 
At  last  they  heard  him  unlock  the  front  door  and 
come  up  the  broad  stairs.  Then  they  heard  his 
room  door  open  and  shut. 

"Now  for  the  main  act  in  the  drama,"  whis- 


48    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

pered  Roger.  "Come  on,  but  don't  dare  to  make 
any  noise." 

All  of  the  boys,  including  little  Macklin  and 
Polly  Vane,  were  soon  outside  of  dormitories  Nos. 
ii  and  12 — the  two  rooms  the  "crowd"  occupied. 
They  went  forth  on  tiptoe,  scarcely  daring  to 
breathe. 

Arriving  at  Job  Haskers'  door,  they  listened 
and  heard  the  teacher  preparing  to  go  to  bed.  One 
shoe  after  another  dropped  to  the  floor,  and  then 
came  a  creaking  of  the  bed,  which  told  that  he  had 
lain  down. 

"That  ram  isn't  going  to  do  anything,"  began 
Sam,  in  disgust,  when  there  came  a  bang  on  the 
closet  door  that  caused  everybody  to  jump. 

"Wha-what's  that?"  cried  Job  Haskers,  sitting 
up  in  bed.  He  fancied  somebody  had  knocked  on 
the  door  to  the  hall. 

Another  bang  resounded  on  the  closet  door. 
The  ram  had  finished  the  apple,  and  wanted  his 
freedom.  The  teacher  leaped  to  the  middle  of  the 
bedroom  floor. 

"Who  is  in  there?"  he  demanded,  walking 
toward  the  closet.     "Who  is  there,  I  say?" 

Getting  no  answer,  he  paused  in  perplexity. 
Then  a  grin  overspread  his  crafty  face,  and  he 
slipped  on  some  of  his  clothing. 

"So  I've  caught  you,  eh?"  he  observed.  "Going 
to  play  some  trick  on  me,  were  you  ?    I  am  half  of  a 


THE  FUN  OF  A  NIGHT  49 

mind  to  make  you  stay  there  all  night,  no  matter 
who  you  are.  I  suppose  you  thought  I  wouldn't 
get  back  quite  so  early.    In  the  morning,  I'll " 

Another  bang  on  the  door  cut  his  speculations 
short.  He  struck  a  match  and  lit  the  light,  and 
then  unlocking  the  closet  door,  threw  it  wide  open. 

What  happened  next  came  with  such  suddenness 
that  Job  Haskers  was  taken  completely  by  surprise. 
As  soon  as  the  door  was  opened,  the  ram  leaped 
out.  He  caught  one  glimpse  of  the  teacher,  and, 
lowering  his  head,  he  made  a  plunge  and 
caught  Job  Haskers  fairly  and  squarely  in  the 
stomach,  doubling  up  the  man  like  a  jack-knife. 
Haskers  went  down  in  a  heap,  and,  turning,  the 
ram  gave  him  a  second  prod  in  the  side. 

"Hi!  stop!  murder!  help!"  came  in  terror. 
"Stop  it,  you  beast!  Hi!  call  him  off,  somebody! 
Oh,  my!"  And  then  Job  Haskers  tried  to  arise 
and  place  a  table  between  himself  and  the  ram. 
But  the  animal  was  now  thoroughly  aroused,  and 
went  at  the  table  with  vigor,  upsetting  it  on  the 
teacher  and  hurling  both  over  into  a  corner. 

By  this  time  the  noise  had  aroused  nearly  the 
entire  school,  and  pupils  and  teachers  came  hurry- 
ing from  all  directions. 

"What  is  the  trouble  here?"  demanded  Andrew 
Dale,  as  he  came  up  to  where  Dave  was  standing. 

"Sounds  like  a  bombardment  in  Mr.  Haskers' 
room,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 


50    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Mr.  Haskers  is  trying  some  new  gymnastic 
exercises,"  came  from  a  student  in  the  rear  of  the 
crowd. 

"Maybe  he  has  got  a  fit,"  suggested  another. 
"He  didn't  look  well  at  supper  time." 

The  racket  in  the  room  continued,  and  now 
Doctor  Clay,  arrayed  in  a  dressing-gown  and 
slippers,  came  upon  the  scene,  followed  by  Pop 
Swingly,  the  janitor. 

"Has  Mr.  Haskers  caught  a  burglar?"  asked 
the  janitor. 

"That's  it!"  shouted  Phil,  with  a  wink  at  his 
friends.  "Look  out,  Swingly,  that  you  don't  get 
shot!" 

"Shot?"  gasped  the  janitor,  who  was  far  from 
being  a  brave  man.  "I  don't  want  to  get  shot,  not 
me !"  and  he  edged  behind  some  of  the  boys. 

Doctor  Clay  hurried  to  the  door  of  the  room, 
only  to  find  it  locked  from  the  inside. 

"Mr.  Haskers,  what  is  the  trouble?"  he  de- 
manded. 

Another  bang  and  a  thump  was  the  only  reply, 
accompanied  by  several  yells.  Then,  of  a  sudden, 
came  a  crash  of  glass  and  an  exclamation  of 
wonder. 

"Something  has  gone  through  the  window,  as 
sure  as  you  are  born!"  whispered  Dave  to  Roger. 

"Oh,  Dave,  you  don't  suppose  it  was  Haskers? 
If  he  fell  to  the  ground,  he'd  be  killed!" 


THE  FUN  OF  A  NIGHT  51 

"Open  the  door,  or  I  shall  break  in !"  thundered 
Doctor  Clay,  and  then  the  door  was  thrown  open 
and  Job  Haskers  stood  there,  a  look  of  misery  on 
his  face  and  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

"What  is  the  trouble?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"The  ram — he  butted  me — knocked  me  down 
— nearly  killed  me!"  spluttered  the  assistant 
teacher. 

"The  ram — what  ram?" 

"He's  gone  now — hit  the  window  and  jumped 
out." 

"Mr.  Haskers,  have  you  lost  your  senses?" 

"No,  sir.  There  was  a  ram  in  this  room — in 
the  closet.  I  heard  him,  and  opened  the  door — 
I — oh!  I  can  feel  the  blow  yet.  He  was  a — a 
terror!" 

"Do  you  mean  a  real,  live  ram?"  questioned 
Andrew  Dale,  with  a  slight  smile  on  his  face — 
that  smile  which  made  all  the  boys  his  friends. 

"I  should  say  he  was  alive  !  Oh,  it's  no  laughing 
matter !"  growled  Job  Haskers.  "He  nearly  killed 
.me!" 

"An'  did  he  go  through  the  winder?"  asked  Pop 
Swingly,  as  he  stepped  to  the  broken  sash. 

"He  did — went  out  like  a  rocket.  Look  at  the 
wreck  of  the  table !  I  am  thankful  I  wasn't 
killed!" 

"How  did  the  ram  get  here?"  asked  Doctor 
Clay. 


52    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"How  should  I  know?  He  was  in  the  closet 
when  I  came  in.  Some  of  those  villainous 
boys—" 

"Gently,  Mr.  Haskers.  The  boys  are  not  vil- 
lains." 

"Well,  they  put  the  ram  there,  I  am  sure  of 
it." 

The  doctor  turned  to  the  janitor. 

"Swingly,  go  below  and  see  if  you  can  see 
anything  of  the  ram.  He  may  be  lying  on  the 
ground  with  a  broken  leg,  or  something  like  that. 
If  so,  we'll  have  to  kill  him,  to  put  him  out  of  his 
misery." 

The  janitor  armed  himself  with  a  stout  cane  and 
went  downstairs,  and  after  him  trooped  Andrew 
Dale  and  fully  a  score  of  boys.  But  not  a  sign  of 
the  ram  was  to  be  seen,  only  some  sharp  footprints 
where  he  had  landed. 

"Must  have  struck  fair  an'  square,  an'  run  off," 
observed  the  janitor.  "Rams  is  powerful  tough 
critters.  I  knowed  one  as  fell  over  a  stone  cliff,  an' 
never  minded  it  at  all." 

"Let  us  take  a  look  around,"  said  the  first  assist- 
ant. "Boys,  get  to  bed,  you'll  take  cold  in  this 
night  air."  And  then  the  students  trooped  back 
into  the  Hall. 

Upstairs  they  found  that  Job  Haskers  and  Doc- 
tor Clay  had  gotten  into  a  wrangle.  The  assistant 
wanted  an  examination  of  the  boys  at  once,  regard- 


THE  FUN  OF  A  NIGHT  53 

less  of  the  hour  of  the  night,  but  Doctor  Clay 
demurred. 

"We'll  investigate  in  the  morning,"  said  he. 
"And,  as  the  window  is  broken  out,  Mr.  Haskers, 
you  may  take  the  room  next  to  mine,  which  is  just 
now  vacant." 

"Somebody  ought  to  be  punished " 

"We'll  investigate,  do  not  fear." 

"It's  getting  worse  and  worse.  By  and  by  there 
won't  be  any  managing  these  rascals  at  all,"  grum- 
bled the  assistant  teacher.  "Some  of  them  ought 
to  have  their  necks  wrung !" 

"There,  that  is  enough,"  returned  the  doctor, 
sternly.  "I  think  we  can  manage  them,  even  at 
such  a  time  as  this.  "Now,  boys,"  he  continued, 
"go  to  bed,  and  do  not  let  me  hear  any  more  dis- 
turbances." And  he  waved  the  students  to  their 
various  dormitories. 

"Say,  but  isn't  old  Haskers  mad!"  exclaimed 
Roger,  when  he  and  his  chums  were  in  their  dormi- 
tory. "He'd  give  a  good  bit  to  find  out  who  played 
the  joke  on  him." 

"I  hope  that  ram  got  away  all  right,"  came  from 
Dave.     "I  didn't  want  to  see  the  animal  injured." 

"I  think  Pop  Swingly  is  right,  animals  like  that 
are  tough,"  was  Buster  Beggs'  comment.  "More 
than  likely  he  is  on  his  way  back  to  Farmer  Cad- 
more's  farm." 

"We'll  find  out  later  on,"  put  in  Sam  Day. 


54    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"There  is  another  thing  to  consider,"  continued 
Dave.  "It  wouldn't  be  right  to  let  Doctor  Clay 
stand  for  the  expense  of  that  broken  window.  I 
think  I'll  send  him  the  price  of  the  glass  out  of  my 
pocket  money." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it !"  exclaimed  Phil.  "Let  us  pass 
around  the  hat.  We  are  all  in  this  as  deep  as  you." 
And  so  it  was  decided  that  all  of  the  students  of 
dormitories  Nos.  n  and  12  should  contribute  to 
the  fund  for  mending  the  broken  sash.  Then,  as 
Andrew  Dale  came  around  on  a  tour  of  inspection, 
all  hopped  into  bed  and  were  soon  sound  asleep. 


CHAPTER   VII 

gus  plum's  mysterious  offer 

When  Doctor  Clay  came  to  his  desk  on  the 
following  morning,  he  found  an  envelope  lying 
there,  on  which  was  inscribed  the  following : 

"To  pay  for  the  broken  window.  If  it  costs 
more,  please  let  the  school  know,  and  we'll  settle 
the  bill."    Three  dollars  was  inclosed. 

This  caused  the  worthy  doctor  to  smile  quietly 
to  himself.  It  took  him  back  to  his  college  days, 
when  he  had  aided  in  several  such  scrapes. 

"Boys  will  be  boys,"  he  murmured.  "They  are 
not  villains,  only  real  flesh-and-blood  youngsters." 

"You  are  going  to  punish  those  boys?"  de- 
manded Job  Haskers,  coming  up. 

"If  we  can  locate  them." 

"Humph!     I'd  catch  them,  if  it  took  all  day." 

"You  may  do  as  you  think  best,  Mr.  Haskers; 
only  remember  you  have  young  gentlemen  to  deal 
with.  I  presume  they  thought  it  only  a  harmless 
prank." 

"I'll  prank  them,  if  I  catch  them,"  growled  the 
assistant  to  himself,  as  he  walked  away. 

Word  had  been  passed  around  among  the  boys, 

55 


56    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

and  when  the  roll  was  called  all  were  ready  to 
"face  the  music." 

"Who  knows  anything  about  the  proceedings  of 
last  night?"  began  Job  Haskers,  gazing  around 
fiercely. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  a  rather  dull  boy 
named  Carson  arose. 

"Great  Caesar!  Is  he  going  to  blab  on  us?" 
murmured  Phil. 

"What  have  you  got  to  say,  Carson?"  asked  the 
teacher. 

"I — I — I  kn-know  wh-what  happened,"  stut- 
tered Carson. 

"Very  well,  tell  me  what  you  know?" 

"A  ra-ra-ra-ram  got  into  your  ro-ro-ro-room, 
and  he  kno-kno-kno-knocked  you  d-d-d-down !" 
went  on  the  boy,  who  was  the  worst  stutterer  at 
Oak  Hall. 

"Ahem!  I  know  that.  Who  put  the  ram  in 
my  room?" 

"I  d-d-d-d " 

"You  did !"  thundered  the  teacher.  "How  dare 
you  do  such  a  thing!" 

"I  d-d-d-d " 

"Carson,  I  am — er — amazed.  What  made  you 
doit?" 

"I  d-d-d-didn't  say  I  d-d-d-did  it,"  spluttered 
poor  Carson.     "I  said  I  d-d-d-didn't  know." 

"Oh!"     Job  Haskers'  face  fell,  and  he  looked 


GUS  PLUM'S  MYSTERIOUS  OFFER       57 

as  sour  as  he  could.  "Sit  down.  Now,  then,  who- 
ever knows  who  put  that  ram  in  my  room  last  night, 
stand  up." 

Not  a  boy  arose. 

"Will  anybody  answer?"  stormed  the  teacher. 

There  was  utter  silence,  broken  only  by  the  tick- 
ing of  the  clock  on  the  wall.  Dave  looked  at  Gus 
Plum  and  Nat  Poole,  but  neither  budged. 

"I  shall  call  the  roll,  and  each  boy  must  answer 
for  himself,"  went  on  Job  Haskers.     "Ansberry!" 

"I  can  tell  you  nothing,  Mr.  Haskers,"  was  the 
reply,  and  the  pupil  dropped  back  into  his  seat. 

"Humph!     Aspinwell!" 

"I  can  tell  you  nothing,  Mr.  Haskers." 

"Babcock!" 

"I  can  tell  you  nothing,  Mr.  Haskers." 

"This  is — er — outrageous !     Beggs !" 

"Sorry,  but  I  can  tell  you  nothing,  Mr.  Has- 
kers," drawled  the  fat  youth. 

After  that,  one  name  after  another  was  called, 
and  every  pupil  said  practically  the  same  thing, 
even  Plum  and  Poole  stating  that  they  could  tell 
nothing.  When  the  roll-call  was  finished,  the 
teacher  was  fairly  purple  with  suppressed  rage. 

"I  shall  inquire  into  this  at  some  future  time !" 
he  snapped  out.  "You  are  dismissed  to  your 
classes."    And  he  turned  away  to  hide  his  chagrin. 

"Do  you  think  we  are  safe?"  whispered  Phil  to 
Dave,  as  they  hurried  to  their  room. 


58    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"I  think  so,"  was  the  country  boy's  reply.  And 
Dave  was  right — the  truth  concerning  the  night's 
escapade  did  not  come  out  until  long  after,  when  it 
was  too  late  to  do  anything  in  the  matter. 

Dave  was  anxious  to  make  a  record  for  himself 
in  his  studies,  and,  with  the  end  of  the  term  so  close 
at  hand,  he  did  his  best  over  his  books  and  in  the 
classroom.  He  was  close  to  the  top  of  his  class, 
and  he  was  already  certain  of  winning  a  special 
prize  given  for  mathematics.  Roger  was  just  be- 
hind him  in  the  general  average,  and  Phil  was  but 
five  points  below,  with  a  special  prize  for  language 
to  his  credit.  The  best  scholar  of  all  was  Polly 
Vane,  who,  so  far,  had  a  percentage  of  ninety- 
seven,  out  of  a  possible  hundred. 

Dave  had  not  forgotten  what  Gus  Plum  had 
said,  and  just  before  the  session  for  the  day  was 
ended  received  a  note  from  the  bully,  asking  him 
to  come  down  to  a  point  on  the  lake  known  as  the 
Three  Rocks,  and  located  at  the  extreme  limit  of 
the  academy  grounds.  Plum  asked  him  particu- 
larly to  come  alone. 

"Aren't  you  afraid  Plum  will  play  some  trick  on 
you?"  asked  Phil,  who  saw  the  note  delivered,  and 
read  it. 

"I'll  be  on  my  guard,"  answered  Dave.  "I  am 
not  afraid  of  him,  if  it  should  come  to  an  encounter 
between  us." 

Having  put  away  his  books,   Dave  sauntered 


GUS  PLUM'S  MYSTERIOUS  OFFER       59 

down  to  the  spot  mentioned,  which  was  behind  a 
thick  fringe  of  bushes.  Plum  was  not  yet  there, 
but  soon  came  up  at  a  quick  walk. 

"I  couldn't  get  away  from  Poole,"  explained 
the  bully.  "Are  you  alone?"  and  he  gazed  around 
anxiously. 

"Yes,  I  am  alone,"  answered  Dave,  coolly. 

There  was  a  silence,  and  each  boy  looked  at  the 
other.  Dave's  eyes  were  clear,  but  the  bully's  had 
something  of  the  haunted  in  them. 

"You  said  something  about  me  last  night,"  be- 
gan Plum,  lamely,  "something  about  my  being  on 
the  river." 

"I  did." 

"Did  you  see  me  on  the  river?" 

"I  am  not  going  to  answer  that  question  just 
yet,  Plum." 

"Huh!     Maybe  you  are  only  joking?" 

"Very  well,  you  can  think  as  you  please.  If  you 
want  to  talk  to  me,  very  well;  if  not,  I'll  go  back 
to  the  school,"  and  Dave  started  to  walk  away. 

"Hold  on!"  The  bully  caught  the  country  boy 
by  the  arm.  "If  you  saw  me  on  the  river,  what 
else  did  you  see?" 

"You  were  following  Shadow  Hamilton  in  a 
boat." 

"I  wasn't — I  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with 
Hamilton.  I — I  didn't  know  he  was  out  till  after- 
wards," went  on  the  bully,  fiercely.     "Don't  you 


60    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

say  such  a  thing — don't  you  dare !"  His  face  was 
very  white.  "You  are  not  going  to  get  me  into 
trouble!" 

"Is  that  all  you  have  to  say,  Plum?" 

"N-no.  I  want  to  talk  this  over,  Porter.  I — 
that  is — let  us  come  to  terms — that's  the  best  way. 
It  won't  do  you  any  good  to  try  to  get  me  into 
trouble.  I — I  haven't  done  anything  wrong.  I 
was  out  on  the  river  by — by  accident,  that's  all — 
got  it  into  my  head  to  have  a  lark  that  night,  just 
as  you  went  out  for  a  lark  last  night." 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  to  see  me  about, 
then?"  questioned  Dave.  He  could  readily  see 
that  the  bully  had  something  on  his  mind  which 
troubled  him  greatly. 

"I  think  we  might  as  well  come  to  terms — you 
keep  still  and  I'll  keep  still." 

"I  haven't  said  anything,  Plum." 

"Yes,  but  you  might,  later  on,  you  know.  I — 
that  is,  let  us  make  a  sure  thing  of  this,"  stammered 
the  bully. 

"What  are  you  driving  at,  Plum?  Talk  out 
straight." 

"I  will."  The  bully  looked  around,  to  make 
certain  that  nobody  was  within  hearing  distance. 
"You're  a  poor  boy,  Porter,  aren't  you?" 

"I  admit  it." 

"Just  so.  And,  being  poor,  some  pocket  money 
comes  in  mighty  handy  at  times,  doesn't  it?" 


GUS  PLUM'S  MYSTERIOUS  OFFER       61 

"I  have  some  spending  money." 

"But  not  as  much  as  you'd  like ;  ain't  that  so  ?" 

"Oh,  I  could  spend  more — if  I  had  it,"  answered 
Dave,  trying  to  find  out  what  the  other  was  driv- 
ing at. 

"Well,  supposing  I  promised  to  give  you  some 
money  to  spend,  Porter,  how  would  that  strike 
you?" 

Dave  was  astonished,  the  suggestion  was  so  en- 
tirely unexpected.  But  he  tried  not  to  show  his 
feelings. 

"Would  you  give  me  money,  Gus?"  he  asked, 
calmly. 

"Yes,  I  would — if  you'd  only  promise  to  keep 
quiet." 

"How  much?" 

"Well — I — er — I'd  do  the  right  thing.  Did 
Phil  Lawrence  see  me  on  the  river?" 

"No." 

"Any  of  the  other  boys?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of." 

"Then  you  were  alone."  Gus  Plum  drew  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "Now,  let  us  come  to  terms,  by  all 
means.  I'll  do  the  square  thing,  and  you'll  have 
all  the  pocket  money  you  want." 

"But  how  much  are  you  willing  to  give  me?" 
queried  Dave,  his  curiosity  aroused  to  its  highest 
pitch. 

"I'll    give    you" — the    bully    paused,    to    add 


62    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

impressiveness  to  his  words — "I'll  give  you  fifty 
dollars." 

"Fifty  dollars!"  ejaculated  Dave.  He  was  be- 
wildered by  the  answer.  He  had  expected  Plum  to 
name  a  dollar  or  two  at  the  most. 

"Ain't  that  enough?" 

"Do  you  think  it  is  enough?"  asked  the  country 
boy.  He  scarcely  knew  what  to  say.  He  was  try- 
ing to  study  the  bully's  face. 

"Well — er — if  you'll  give  me  your  solemn  word 
not  to  whisper  a  word — not  a  word,  remember — 
I'll  make  it  a — a  hundred  dollars." 

"You'll  give  me  a  hundred  dollars?    When?" 

"Before  the  end  of  the  week.  I  haven't  the 
money  now,  but,  if  you  want  it,  I  can  give  you  ten 
dollars  on  account — just  to  bind  the  bargain,"  and 
the  bully  drew  two  five-dollar  bills  from  his  vest 
pocket.  "But,  remember,  mum's  the  word — no 
matter  what  comes." 

He  thrust  the  bills  at  Dave,  who  merely  looked 
at  them.     Then  the  country  boy  drew  himself  up. 

"I  don't  want  a  cent  of  your  money,  Gus  Plum," 
he  said,  in  a  low,  but  firm,  voice.  "You  can't  bribe 
me,  no  matter  what  you  offer." 

The  bully  dropped  back  and  his  face  fell.  He 
put  his  money  back  into  his  pocket.  Then  he  glared 
savagely  at  Dave. 

"Then  you  won't  come  to  terms!"  he  fairly 
hissed  between  his  teeth. 


GUS  PLUM'S  MYSTERIOUS  OFFER       63 

"No." 

"You  had  better.  If  you  dare  to  tell  on  me — 
breathe  a  word  of  what  you  saw  that  night — I'll 
— I'll  make  it  so  hot  for  you  that  you'll  wish  you 
had  never  been  born !  I  am  not  going  to  let  a 
country  jay  like  you  ruin  me!  Not  much!  You 
think  twice  before  you  make  a  move !  I  can  hurt 
you  in  a  way  you  least  expect,  and  if  I  have  to  leave 
this  school,  you'll  have  to  go,  too!"  And  shaking 
his  fist  at  Dave,  Gus  Plum  strode  off,  leaving  Dave 
more  mystified  than  ever  before. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

shadow  Hamilton's  confession 

"I  simply  can't  understand  it,  Phil.  Gus  Plum 
was  frightened  very  much,  or  he  would  never  have 
offered  me  a  hundred  dollars  to  keep  quiet." 

Dave  and  his  chum  were  strolling  along  the  edge 
of  the  campus,  an  hour  after  the  conversation  re- 
corded in  the  last  chapter.  The  boy  from  the  poor- 
house  had  told  Phil  all  that  had  occurred. 

"It  is  certainly  the  most  mysterious  thing  I  ever 
heard  of,  outside  of  this  mystery  about  Billy  Dill," 
answered  Phil.  "Plum  has  been  up  to  something 
wrong,  but  just  what,  remains  to  be  found  out." 

"And  what  about  Shadow  Hamilton?" 

"I  can't  say  anything  about  Shadow.  I  never 
thought  he  would  do  anything  that  wasn't  right." 

"Nor  I.     What  would  you  advise?" 

"Keep  quiet  and  await  developments.  Some- 
thing is  bound  to  come  to  the  surface,  sooner  or 
later." 

"Hello,  you  fellows,  where  are  you  bound?" 
came  in  a  cry,  and  looking  up  they  saw  a  well- 
known  form  approaching. 

"Ben  1"  cried  Dave,  rushing  up  to  the  newcomer 
64 


SHADOW  HAMILTON'S  CONFESSION     65 

and  shaking  hands  warmly.  "When  did  you  come 
in?  And  how  are  all  the  folks  at  Crumville?  Did 
you  happen  to  see  Professor  Potts  and  the  Wads- 
worths?"  , 

"One  question  at  a  time,  please,"  answered  Ben 
Basswood,  as  he  shook  hands  with  Phil.  "Yes,  I 
saw  them  all,  and  everybody  wants  to  be  remem- 
bered to  you.  Jessie  sends  her  very  sweetest  re- 
gards  " 

"Oh,  come  now,  no  fooling,"  interrupted  Dave, 
blushing  furiously.    "Tell  us  the  plain  truth." 

"Well,  she  sent  her  best  regard,  anyway.  And 
all  the  others  did  the  same.  The  professor  is  get- 
ting along  finely.  You'd  hardly  know  him  now,  he 
looks  so  hale  and  hearty.  It  did  him  a  world  of 
good  to  go  to  live  with  the  Wadsworths." 

"You  must  have  had  a  pretty  nice  vacation," 
observed  Phil. 

"Yes,  although  it  was  rather  short.  But,  say, 
have  you  fellows  heard  about  Plum's  father?"  went 
on  Ben  Basswood,  earnestly. 

"We've  heard  that  he  lost  some  money." 

"Yes,  and  he  has  tied  himself  up  in  some  sort 
of  underhanded  get-rich-quick  concern,  and  I  un- 
derstand some  folks  are  going  to  sue  him  for  all 
he  is  worth.  That  will  be  rather  rough  on  Gus — if 
his  father  loses  all  his  money." 

"True  enough,"  said  Dave.  "But  tell  us  all  the 
news,"  he  continued,  and  then  Ben  related  the  par- 


66    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

ticulars  of  affairs  at  Crumville,  and  of  a  legal  fight 
between  his  father  and  Mr.  Aaron  Poole,  in  which 
Mr.  Basswood  had  won. 

"That  will  make  Nat  more  sour  on  you  than 
ever,"  observed  Phil. 

"Maybe;  but  I  can't  help  it.  If  he  leaves  me 
alone  I'll  leave  him  alone." 

The  following  day  passed  quietly  at  Oak  Hall. 
Gus  Plum  and  Nat  Poole  kept  by  themselves. 
Shadow  Hamilton  appeared  to  brighten  a  little, 
but  Dave  observed  that  the  youth  was  by  no  means 
himself.  He  did  not  care  to  play  baseball  or  "do  a 
turn"  at  the  gym.,  and  kept  for  the  most  part  by 
himself. 

Saturday  passed,  and  on  Sunday  a  large  number 
of  the  students  marched  off  to  three  of  the  town 
churches.  Dave,  Roger,  and  Phil  attended  the 
same  church  and  Ben  went  with  them,  and  all  lis- 
tened to  a  strong  sermon  on  Christian  brotherhood, 
which  was  destined  to  do  each  of  them  good. 

"It  makes  a  fellow  feel  as  if  he's  got  to  help 
somebody  else,"  said  Roger. 

"Well,  it  is  our  duty  to  help  others,"  answered 
Dave.  "The  fellow  who  isn't  willing  to  do  that  is 
selfish." 

"You've  certainly  helped  Macklin,  Dave,"  .said 
Ben.  "I  never  saw  such  a  change  in  a  fellow.  I'll 
wager  he  is  more  than  happy  to  be  out  of  Gus 
Plum's  influence." 


SHADOW  HAMILTON'S  CONFESSION     67 

"I'd  help  Plum,  too,  if  he'd  let  me,"  said  Dave, 
and  then  gave  a  long  sigh. 

Two  days  later  there  was  a  sensation  at  the 
school.  Doctor  Clay  came  into  the  main  class- 
room in  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  looking  much 
worried. 

"Young  gentlemen,  I  wish  to  talk  to  you  for  a 
few  minutes,"  he  said.  "As  some  of  you  may  know, 
I  am  the  proud  possessor  of  a  stamp  collection  which 
I  value  at  not  less  than  three  thousand  dollars. 
The  stamps  are  arranged  in  three  books,  and  I 
have  spent  eight  years  in  collecting  them.  These 
books  of  stamps  are  missing,  and  I  wish  to  know  if 
anybody  here  knows  anything  about  them.  If  they 
were  taken  away  in  a  spirit  of  fun,  let  me  say  that 
such  a  joke  is  a  poor  one,  and  I  trust  the  books  will 
be  speedily  returned,  and  without  damage  to  a 
single  stamp." 

All  of  the  boys  listened  with  interest,  for  many 
of  them  had  inspected  the  collection,  and  they 
knew  that  stamp-gathering  was  one  of  the  kind 
doctor's  hobbies. 

"Doctor,  I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  this,"  said  one 
boy,  named  Bert  Dalgart,  a  youth  who  had  a  small 
collection  of  his  own.  "I  looked  at  the  collection 
about  ten  days  ago,  as  you  know.  I  haven't  seen 
it  since." 

"Nor  have  I  seen  it,"  said  Roger,  who  also  col- 
lected stamps. 


68    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Is  there  any  boy  here  who  knows  anything  at 
all  about  my  collection?"  demanded  the  doctor, 
sharply.     "If  so,  let  him  stand  up." 

There  was  a  pause,  but  nobody  arose.  The 
master  of  Oak  Hall  drew  a  long  breath. 

"If  this  is  a  joke,  I  want  the  collection  returned 
by  to-morrow  morning,"  he  went  on.  "If  this  is 
not  done,  and  I  learn  who  is  guilty,  I  shall  expel 
that  student  from  this  school." 

He  then  passed  on  to  the  next  classroom,  and  so 
on  through  the  whole  academy.  But  nothing  was 
learned  concerning  the  missing  stamp  collection, 
and  the  end  of  the  inquiry  left  the  worthy  doctor 
much  perplexed  and  worried. 

"That  is  too  bad,"  was  Dave's  comment,  after 
school  was  dismissed.  "That  was  a  nice  collec- 
tion.   I'd  hate  to  have  it  mussed  up,  if  it  was  mine." 

"The  fellow  who  played  that  joke  went  too  far," 
said  the  senator's  son.  "He  ought  to  put  the  col- 
lection back  at  once." 

The  matter  was  talked  over  by  all  the  students 
for  several  days.  In  the  meantime  Doctor  Clay 
went  on  a  vigorous  hunt  for  the  stamp  collection, 
but  without  success. 

"Do  you  think  it  possible  that  somebody  stole 
that  collection?"  questioned  Dave  of  Phil  one  after- 
noon, as  he  and  his  chum  strolled  in  the  direction 
of  Farmer  Cadmore's  place,  to  see  if  they  could 
learn  anything  about  the  ram. 


SHADOW  HAMILTON'S  CONFESSION     69 

"Oh,  it's  possible;  but  who  would  be  so  mean?" 

"Maybe  some  outsider  got  the  stamps." 

"I  don't  think  so.  An  outside  thief  would  have 
taken  some  silverware,  or  something  like  that.  No, 
I  think  those  stamps  were  taken  by  somebody  in 
the  school." 

"Then  maybe  the  chap  is  afraid  to  return  them — 
for  fear  of  being  found  out." 

So  the  talk  ran  on  until  the  edge  of  the  Cadmore 
farm  was  gained.  Looking  into  a  field,  they  saw 
the  ram  grazing  peacefully  on  the  fresh,  green 
grass. 

"He's  as  right  as  a  button!"  cried  Phil.  "I 
guess  he  wasn't  hurt  at  all,  and  after  jumping  from 
the  window  he  came  straight  home,"  and  in  this 
surmise  the  youth  was  correct. 

As  the  boys  walked  back  to  the  school  they  sepa- 
rated, Phil  going  to  the  gymnasium  to  practice  on 
the  bars  and  Dave  to  stroll  along  the  river.  The 
boy  from  Crumville  wanted  to  be  by  himself,  to 
think  over  the  past  and  try  to  reason  out  what  the 
sailor  had  told  him.  Many  a  time  had  Dave  tried 
to  reason  this  out,  but  always  failed,  yet  he  could 
not  bear  to  think  of  giving  up. 

"Some  time  or  another  I've  got  to  find  out  who 
I  am  and  where  I  came  from,"  he  murmured.  "I 
am  not  going  to  remain  a  nobody  all  my  life!" 

He  came  to  a  halt  in  a  particularly  picturesque 
spot,  and  was  about  to  sit  down,  when  he  heard  a 


yo    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

noise  close  at  hand.  Looking  through  the  bushes, 
he  saw  Shadow  Hamilton  on  his  knees  and  with 
his  clasped  hands  raised  to  heaven.  The  boy  was 
praying,  and  remained  on  his  knees  for  several 
minutes.  When  he  arose,  he  turned  around  and 
discovered  Dave,  who  had  just  started  to  leave 
the  spot. 

"Dave  Porter !"  came  in  a  low  cry,  and  Hamil- 
ton's face  grew  red. 

"Hello,  Shadow!  Taking  a  walk  along  the 
river?     If  you  are,  I'll  go  along." 

"I — I  was  walking,"  stammered  the  other  boy. 
His  eyes  searched  Dave's  face.  "You — were  you 
watching  me?"  he  asked,  lamely. 

"Not  exactly." 

"But  you  saw  me — er " 

"I  saw  you,  Shadow,  I  couldn't  help  it.  It  was 
nothing  for  you  to  be  ashamed  of,  though." 

"I — I — oh,  I  can't  tell  you!"  and  Hamilton's 
face  took  on  a  look  of  keen  misery. 

"Shadow,  you  are  in  some  deep  trouble,  I  know 
it,"  came  bluntly  from  Dave.  "Don't  you  want  to 
tell  me  about  it?  I'll  do  what  I  can  for  you. 
We've  been  chums  ever  since  I  came  here  and  I  hate 
to  see  you  so  downcast." 

"It  wouldn't  do  any  good — you  couldn't  help 
me. 

"Are  you  sure  of  that?  Sometimes  an  outsider 
looks  at  a  thing  in  a  different  light  than  that  person 


SHADOW  HAMILTON'S  CONFESSION     71 

himself.  Of  course,  I  don't  want  to  pry  into  your 
secrets,  if  you  don't  want  me  to." 

Shadow  Hamilton  bit  his  lip  and  hesitated. 

"If  I  tell  you  something,  will  you  promise  to 
keep  it  to  yourself?" 

"If  it  is  best,  yes." 

"I  don't  know  if  it  is  best  or  not,  but  I  don't  want 
you  to  say  anything." 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"You  know  all  about  the  doctor  losing  that  col- 
lection of  stamps?" 

"Certainly." 

"And  you  know  about  the  loss  of  some  of  the 
class  stick-pins  about  three  weeks  ago?" 

"Yes,  I  know  Mr.  Dale  lost  just  a  dozen  of 
them." 

"The  stick-pins  are  worth  two  dollars  each." 

"Yes." 

"And  that  stamp  collection  was  worth  over 
three  thousand  dollars." 

"I  know  that,  too." 

"Well,  I  stole  the  stick-pins,  and  I  stole  the 
stamp  collection,  tool" 


CHAPTER    IX 

ABOUT  ATHLETIC    CONTESTS 

"You  stole  those  things,  you!"  gasped  Dave. 
He  could  scarcely  utter  the  words.  He  shrank 
back  a  step  or  two,  and  his  face  was  filled  with 
horror. 

"Yes,  I  did  it,"  came  from  Shadow  Hamilton. 

"But — but — oh,  Shadow,  you  must  be  fooling! 

Surely,  you  didn't  really  go  to  work  and — and " 

Try  his  best,  Dave  could  not  finish. 

"I  stole  the  things;  or,  rather,  I  think  I  had  bet- 
ter say  I  took  them,  although  it  amounts  to  the 
same  thing.  But  I  don't  think  I  am  quite  as  bad  as 
you  suppose." 

"But,  if  you  took  them,  why  didn't  you  return 
them?    You  have  had  plenty  of  time." 

"I  would  return  them,  only  I  don't  know  where 
the  things  are." 

"You  don't  know?    What  do  you.  mean?" 

"I'll  have  to  tell  you  my  whole  story,  Dave. 
Will  you  listen  until  I  have  finished?" 

"Certainly." 

"Well,  to  start  on,  I  am  a  great  dreamer  and, 
what  is  more,  I  occasionally  walk  in  my  sleep." 

72 


ABOUT  ATHLETIC  CONTESTS  73 

"Yes,  you  told  me  that  before." 

"One  morning  I  got  up,  and  I  found  my  clothes 
all  covered  with  dirt  and  cobwebs  and  my  shoes 
very  muddy.  I  couldn't  explain  this,  and  I  thought 
some  of  the  fellows  had  been  putting  up  a  job  on 
me.  But  I  didn't  want  to  play  the  calf,  so  I  said 
nothing. 

"Some  days  after  that  I  found  my  clothing  in 
the  same  condition,  and  I  likewise  found  that  my 
hands  were  blistered,  as  if  from  some  hard  work. 
I  couldn't  understand  it,  but  suddenly  it  flashed  on 
me  that  I  must  have  been  sleep-walking.  I  was 
ashamed  of  myself,  so  I  told  nobody." 

"Well,  but  this  robbery "  began  Dave. 

"I  am  coming  to  that.  When  Doctor  Clay  spoke 
about  his  stamp  collection,  I  remembered  that  I 
had  dreamed  of  that  collection  one  night.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  I  must  run  away  with  the  col- 
lection and  put  it  in  a  safe  place.  Then  I  remem- 
bered that  I  had  dreamed  of  the  stick-pins  at  an- 
other time,  and  had  dreamed  of  going  to  the  boat- 
house  to  put  them  in  my  locker  there.  That  made 
me  curious,  and  I  went  down  to  the  locker,  and 
there  I  found — what  do  you  think?  One  of  the 
stick-pins  stuck  in  the  wood." 

"A  new  one?" 

"Exactly.  That  made  me  hunt  around  thor- 
oughly, and  after  a  while  I  discovered  this,  under 
my  rowing  sweater." 


74      DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

As  Shadow  finished,  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
doubled-up  sheet  of  paper.  Dave  unfolded  it,  and 
saw  it  was  a  large  sheet  of  rare  American  postage 
stamps. 

"Did  you  find  any  more  than  this?" 

The  other  youth  shook  his  head. 

"Did  you  hunt  ail  around  the  boathouse?" 

"Yes,  I  hunted  high  and  low,  in  the  building  and 
out.  I  have  spent  all  my  spare  time  hunting;  that 
is  why  I  have  had  such  poor  lessons  lately." 

"Don't  you  remember  going  out  to  row  during 
the  night,  Shadow?" 

At  this  question,  Shadow  Hamilton  started. 

"What  do  you  know  about  that?"  he  demanded. 

"Not  much — only  I  know  you  were  out." 

"Do  you  know  where  I  went  to?" 

"I  do  not." 

"Well,  neither  do  I.  I  dreamed  about  rowing, 
but  I  can't,  for  the  life  of  me,  remember  where  I 
went.  I  must  have  gone  a  good  way,  for  I  blis- 
tered my  hands  with  the  oars." 

"And  yet  you  can't  remember?" 

"Oh,  I  know  it  sounds  like  a  fairy  tale,  and  I 
know  nobody  will  believe  it,  yet  it  is  true,  Dave, 
I'll  give  you  my  word  on  it." 

"I  believe  you,  Shadow.  Your  being  out  is  what 
has  made  you  so  tired  lately.  Now  you  have  told 
me  a  secret,  I  am  going  to  tell  you  one.  Ike  Ras- 
mer  saw  you  out  on  the  river  at  night,  passing 


ABOUT  ATHLETIC  CONTESTS  75 

Robbin's  Point.  And  there  is  something  stranger 
to  tell." 

"What  is  that?" 

"Are  you  dead  certain  you  were  asleep  on  the 
river?" 

"I  must  have  been.  I  remember  nothing  more 
than  my  dream." 

"Do  you  know  that  you  were  followed?" 

"By  Rasmer?" 

"No,  by  Gus  Plum." 

"Plum  !"  gasped  Shadow  Hamilton,  and  his  face 
turned  pale.    "Are — are  you  certain  of  this?" 

"That  is  what  Ike  Rasmer  told  me,"  and  then 
Dave  related  all  that  the  old  boatman  had 
said. 

"That  makes  the  mystery  deeper,"  muttered 
Shadow.  "It  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  story  I  once — 
but  I  can't  tell  stories  now  I"  He  gave  a  sigh. 
"Oh,  Dave,  I  am  so  wretched  over  this !  I  don't 
know  what  to  do." 

"I  know  what  I'd  do." 

"What?" 

"Go  and  tell  Doctor  Clay  everything." 

"I — I  can't  do  it.  He  thought  so  much  of  that 
stamp  collection — he'll  surely  send  me  home — and 
make  my  father  pay  for  the  collection,  too." 

"I  don't  think  he'll  send  you  home.  About  pay, 
that's  another  question.  In  one  sense,  you  didn't 
really  steal  the  stamps.     A  fellow  isn't  responsible 


j6    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

for  what  he  does  in  his  sleep.  I'd  certainly  go  to 
him.    If  you  wish,  I'll  go  with  you." 

The  two  talked  the  matter  over  for  half  an  hour, 
and,  on  Dave's  continual  urging,  Shadow  Hamilton 
at  last  consented  to  go  to  Doctor  Clay  and  make  a 
clean  breast  of  the  matter. 

They  found  the  master  of  Oak  Hall  in  his  pri- 
vate office,  writing  a  letter.  He  greeted  them 
pleasantly  and  told  them  to  sit  down  until  he  had 
finished.  Then  he  turned  around  to  them  inquir- 
ingly. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  for  Shadow  Hamilton  to 
break  the  ice,  and  Dave  had  to  help  him  do  it. 
But,  once  the  plunge  was  taken,  the  youth  given  to 
sleep-walking  told  him  his  story  in  all  of  its  details, 
and  turned  over  to  the  doctor  the  stick-pin  and  the 
sheet  of  stamps  he  had  found. 

During  the  recital,  Doctor  Clay's  eyes  scarcely 
once  left  the  face  of  the  boy  who  was  making  the 
confession.  As  he  proceeded,  Shadow  Hamilton 
grew  paler  and  paler,  and  his  voice  grew  husky 
until  he  could  scarcely  speak. 

"I  know  I  am  to  blame,  sir,"  he  said,  at  last. 
"But  I — I — oh,  Doctor  Clay,  please  forgive  me  !" 
he  burst  out. 

"My  boy,  there  is  nothing  to  forgive,"  was  the 
kindly  answer,  that  took  even  Dave  by  surprise. 
"It  would  seem  that  you  have  been  as  much  of  a 
victim  as  I  have  been.     I  cannot  blame  you  for 


ABOUT  ATHLETIC  CONTESTS  77 

doing  these  things  in  your  sleep.  I  take  it  for 
granted  that  you  have  told  me  the  truth,  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth?" 

"I  have,  sir,  I  have!" 

"Then  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  to  investigate 
this  as  far  as  we  can.  Of  course,  I  realize  that  it 
would  cut  you  to  have  everybody  in  the  school 
know  of  your  sleep-walking  habit." 

"Yes,  sir.  But  I  shouldn't  care,  if  only  you 
could  get  back  the  stamps  and  the  pins." 

"Is  Rasmer  sure  he  saw  Plum  following  Hamil- 
ton on  the  river?"  asked  the  doctor,  turning  to 
Dave. 

"That  is  what  he  told  Morr,  Lawrence,  and  my- 
self the  day  we  stopped  at  his  boathouse  for  a  new 
oarlock." 

"Then  I  must  see  him  and  have  a  talk  with  him," 
said  the  master  of  Oak  Hall ;  and  after  a  few  words 
more  the  boys  were  dismissed. 

On  the  following  morning,  Doctor  Clay  drove 
down  to  Ike  Rasmer's  place.  The  boatman  was 
pleasant  enough,  but  he  remembered  that  Gus  Plum 
was  one  of  his  customers,  and  when  questioned 
closely,  said  he  could  not  testify  absolutely  to  the 
fact  that  it  had  been  Plum  who  had  followed  Ham- 
ilton on  the  river. 

"You  see,  my  eyesight  ain't  of  the  best,  doctor," 
said  Rasmer,  lamely.  "I  saw  Hamilton  full  in  the 
face,  but  the  other  feller  had  his  face  turned  away 


78    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

from  me.  I  ain't  gittin'  nobody  into  trouble,  'less  I 
am  sure  of  what  I  am  doin' — that's  nateral,  ain't 
it?" 

"Very,"  answered  Doctor  Clay,  coldly,  and  re- 
turned to  the  academy  in  deep  thought.  He  real- 
ized that  Ike  Rasmer  was  now  on  his  guard,  and 
would  tell  no  more  than  was  absolutely  required 
of  him. 

The  next  movement  of  the  worthy  doctor  was 
to  call  Gus  Plum  into  his  office.  The  bully  was 
anxious,  but  had  evidently  nerved  himself  for  the 
ordeal. 

"No,  sir,  I  have  not  been  out  on  the  river  at 
night  this  season,"  said  he,  blandly,  in  reply  to  the 
doctor's  question.  "I  have  not  dared  to  go  out  so 
late,  for  I  take  cold  too  easily."  And  he  coughed 
slightly. 

This  was  all  Doctor  Clay  could  get  from  Plum, 
and  he  dismissed  the  bully  without  mentioning 
Hamilton  or  the  missing  pins  and  stamps.  Then 
the  doctor  called  in  Andrew  Dale,  and  the  two 
consulted  together  for  the  best  part  of  an  hour;  but 
what  the  outcome  of  that  discussion  was  the  boys 
were  not  told.  A  day  later,  however,  Shadow 
Hamilton  was  told  to  change  his  sleeping  quarters 
to  a  small  room  next  to  that  occupied  by  Andrew 
Dale. 

"Hello !  Shadow  is  going  to  get  high-toned  and 
have  a  sleeping-room  all  to  himself!"  cried  Roger, 


ABOUT  ATHLETIC  CONTESTS  79 

and  would  have  asked  some  questions,  only  Dave 
cut  him  short. 

"There  is  a  good  reason,  Roger,"  whispered  the 
country  boy.  "But  don't  ask  me  to  explain  now. 
If  you  question  Shadow,  you'll  only  hurt  his  feel- 
ings." This  "tip"  spread,  and  none  of  the  boys 
after  that  said  a  word  before  Hamilton  about  the 
change.  But  later  all  came  to  Dave  and  asked 
what  it  meant. 

"I  wish  I  could  tell  you,  but  I  can't,  fellows. 
Some  day,  perhaps,  you'll  know;  until  then,  you'll 
have  to  forget  it."  And  that  is  all  Dave  would 
say. 

The  boys  were  too  busy  to  give  the  mystery  much 
attention.  A  series  of  athletic  contests  had  been 
arranged,  and  all  of  the  students  who  were  to  take 
part  had  gone  into  training  in  the  gymnasium,  and 
on  the  cinder-track  which  was  laid  out  in  the  field 
beyond  the  last-named  building.  The  contests  were 
to  come  off  on  the  following  Saturday,  and,  to 
make  matters  more  interesting,  Doctor  Clay  had 
put  up  several  prizes  of  books  and  silver  medals, 
to  be  presented  to  the  winners. 

Dave  had  entered  for  a  hurdle  race,  and  Roger, 
Phil,  and  Ben  were  in  various  other  contests.  Dave 
felt  that  he  would  stand  a  good  chance  at  the  hur- 
dles, for  on  Caspar  Potts'  farm  he  had  frequently 
practiced  at  leaping  over  the  rail  fences  while  on  the 
run.    He  did  not  know  surely  who  would  be  pitted 


80    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

against  him  until  Ben  Basswood  brought  him  the 
news. 

"Gus  Plum,  Fanning,  and  Saultz  are  in  the  hur- 
dle race,"  said  Ben.  "Plum  says  he  feels  certain  he 
will  win." 

"Plum,"  repeated  the  country  boy.  "I  knew  the 
others  were  in  it,  but  I  didn't  think  Gus  would  take 
part." 

"He  went  in  right  after  he  heard  that  you  had 
entered.  He  says  he  is  going  to  beat  you  out  of 
your  boots.  He  wanted  to  bet  with  me,  but  I  told 
him  I  didn't  bet." 

"Is  Nat  Poole  in  the  race?" 

"No,  he  is  in  the  quarter-mile  dash,  against  me 
and  six  others.    He  thinks  he  will  win,  too." 

"I  don't  think  he  will,  Ben.  You  can  outrun 
him." 

"Anyway,  I  am  going  to  try,"  answered  Ben 
Basswood. 


CHAPTER   X 

HOW   A   RACE   WAS   WON 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  day  in  early  summer  when 
the  athletic  contests  of  Oak  Hall  came  off.  All  the 
academy  boys  assembled  for  the  affair,  and  wfth 
them  were  a  number  of  folks  from  the  town,  and 
also  some  students  from  the  Rockville  Military 
Academy,  a  rival  institution  of  learning,  as  my  old 
readers  already  know. 

The  contests  began  with  pole  vaulting  and  put- 
ting the  shot,  and,  much  to  the  surprise  of  all,  Chip 
Macklin  won  out  over  half  a  dozen  boys  slightly 
larger  than  himself.  Luke  Watson  also  won  one  of 
the  contests,  and  the  banjo  player  and  Macklin 
were  roundly  applauded  by  their  friends. 

"Dave  Porter  coached  Macklin,"  said  one  small 
boy  to  another.  "I  saw  him  doing  it.  I  can  tell 
you,  Chip  is  picking  up." 

"Yes,"  was  the  answer.  "And  he  doesn't  seem 
to  be  afraid  of  that  bully  of  a  Plum  any  more, 
either." 

After  the  shot-putting  and  vaulting  came  the 
quarter-mile  dash,  for  which  Ben  had  entered. 

"Go  in  and  win,  Ben!"  cried  Dave,  to  his  old 


82    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

chum.  "I  know  you  can  do  it  if  you'll  only 
try." 

"Nat  Poole  will  win  that  race!"  came  roughly 
from  Gus  Plum,  who  stood  near. 

"Hi,  catch  the  ball,  Gus !"  sang  out  Nat  Poole, 
from  across  the  field,  and  threw  a  ball  in  Ben's 
direction.  Plum  leaped  for  the  sphere,  bumped 
up  against  Ben,  and  both  went  down,  with  the  bully 
on  top. 

"Plum,  you  did  that  on  purpose!"  cried  Roger, 
who  was  close  by.     "Shame  on  you !" 

"Shut  up  !  I  didn't  do  it  on  purpose !"  howled 
the  bully,  arising.  "Say  that  again  and  I'll  knock 
you  down !" 

"You  certainly  did  do  it  on  purpose,"  said  Phil, 
stepping  up  quickly.  "You  ought  to  be  reported 
for  it." 

"Aw,  dry  up !"  muttered  Plum,  and  walked 
away. 

When  Ben  arose  he  could  scarcely  get  his  breath. 
He  was  not  hurt,  but  the  wind  had  been  knocked 
completely  out  of  him. 

"I — I  don't  know  if  I  can  ru-run  or  not!"  he 
gasped.  "He  came — came  down  on  me  like  a  ton 
of  bricks!" 

"Wait,  I'll  speak  to  Mr.  Dale  about  this,"  said 
Dave,  and  ran  off.  As  a  result  of  the  interview 
the  contest  was  delayed  ten  minutes — another  tak- 
ing its  place — much  to  the  disgust  of  Gus  Plum  and 


HOW  A  RACE  WAS  WON  83 

Nat  Poole,  both  of  whom  had  reckoned  on  putting 
Ben  out  of  the  contest. 

At  the  start  of  the  quarter-mile  dash  Nat  Poole 
and  two  others  forged  ahead,  but  Ben  was  on  his 
mettle,  and,  setting  his  teeth,  soon  began  to  close 
up  the  gap. 

"Go  it,  Ben!"  yelled  Dave.  "You  can  win,  I 
know  it!" 

"Sail  right  past  'em!"  came  from  the  senator's 
son.     "Hump  yourself,  old  man!" 

"Make  'em  take  the  dust!"  added  Phil. 

Ben  hardly  heard  the  words,  for  he  was  now 
running  with  all  his  strength.  He  passed  first  one 
boy  and  then  another,  and  then  came  abreast  of 
Nat  Poole.  So  they  moved  on  to  within  a  dozen 
paces  of  the  finish.  Then  Ben  made  a  leap  ahead, 
and  so  did  one  of  the  other  contestants,  and  Ben 
came  in  the  winner,  with  the  other  boy  second,  and 
Nat  Poole  third.  A  roar  went  right  across  the 
field. 

"Ben  Basswood  wins !" 

"Jake  Tatmon  is  second!" 

"Nat  Poole  came  in  only  third,  and  he  boasted 
he  was  going  to  win,  sure!" 

As  soon  as  the  race  was  over,  Nat  Poole  sneaked 
out  of  sight,  behind  some  friends.  He  was  bitterly 
disappointed,  and  could  scarcely  keep  from  running 
away  altogether. 

"You  didn't  fix  him  at  all,"  he  whispered  to  Gus 


84    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Plum,  when  he  got  the  chance.  "He  was  in  prime 
condition." 

"I  did  the  best  I  could — you  saw  him  go  down, 
with  me  on  top  of  him,"  retorted  the  bully.  "Now, 
don't  you  forget  what  you  promised,"  he  added, 
sharply. 

"Oh,  I'll  keep  my  word,  don't  fear,"  growled 
Nat  Poole.  "I  hate  Dave  Porter  too  much  to  let 
him  win!" 

There  were  some  standing  and  running  jumps, 
in  which  Roger  and  Phil  won  second  and  third 
places,  and  then  came  the  hurdle  race,  in  which 
Dave  was  to  participate.  In  the  meantime  Nat 
Poole  had  shed  his  track  outfit  and  donned  his 
regular  clothes  and  a  rather  heavy  pair  of  walking 
shoes. 

"Please  let  me  pass,"  said  he  to  the  crowd  in 
which  Dave  was  standing,  and,  without  warning, 
brought  one  of  his  heavy  shoes  down  smartly  on 
Dave's  light,  canvas  foot-covering. 

"Ouch!"  cried  the  country  boy,  and  gave  Poole 
a  quick  shove.  "What  do  you  mean  by  stepping 
on  my  foot  in  that  fashion,  Nat  Poole?" 

"Oh,  excuse  me,"  said  the  Crumville  aristocrat, 
coolly.  "Didn't  know  it  was  your  foot,  Porter,  or 
I  shouldn't  have  stepped  on  it  for  anything." 

"You've  just  about  lamed  me!"  gasped  Dave. 
The  pain  was  still  intense. 

"Dave,  I  believe  this  is  a  put-up  job !"  said  Ben, 


HOW  A  RACE  WAS  WON  85 

quickly.  "Plum  agreed  to  lame  me  so  that  Poole 
could  win,  and  now  Poole  is  trying  the  same  trick 
on  you  for  Plum's  benefit." 

"No  such  thing !"  roared  Nat  Poole,  but  his  face 
grew  fiery  red.  "It  was  a  pure  accident.  I  don't 
have  to  lame  Porter.     Plum  will  win,  anyhow." 

"It  certainly  looks  suspicious,"  said  Shadow 
Hamilton.  "He  hadn't  any  business  to  force  his 
way  through  our  crowd." 

"Oh,  don't  you  put  in  your  oar,  you  old  sleep- 
walker!" growled  Nat  Poole,  and  then  hurried 
off  and  out  of  sight  behind  the  gymnasium.  At  the 
parting  shot  Shadow  became  pale,  but  nobody 
seemed  to  notice  the  remark. 

"Can  you  go  ahead?"  asked  Phil,  of  Dave. 

"I  think  so,"  was  the  answer.  "But  that  was  a 
mean  thing  to  do.  He  came  near  crushing  my  little 
toe." 

Fortunately,  several  of  the  hurdles  had  not  been 
properly  placed,  and  it  took  some  little  time  to 
arrange  them  properly.  During  that  interval 
Roger  dressed  the  injured  foot  for  his  chum,  which 
made  it  feel  much  better. 

"Are  you  all  ready?"  was  the  question  put  to 
the  contestants,  as  they  lined  up.  Then  came  a 
pause,  followed  by  the  crack  of  a  revolver,  and 
they  were  off. 

The  encounter  with  Nat  Poole  had  nerved  Dave 
as  he  had  seldom  been  nerved  before.     Ben  had 


86    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

won,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  do  the  same, 
regardless  of  the  fact  that  Gus  Plum  and  one  of 
the  other  boys  in  the  race  were  bigger  than  himself. 
He  took  the  first  and  second  hurdles  with  ease,  and 
then  found  himself  in  a  bunch,  with  Plum  on  one 
side  and  a  lad  named  Cashod  on  the  other. 

"Whoop  her  up,  Cashod !"  he  yelled  out.  "Come 
on,  and  show  the  others  what  we  can  do  I" 

"Right  you  are,  Porter!"  was  the  answering 
cry. 

"Not  much!"  puffed  out  Gus  Plum.  "I'm  the 
winner  here  I" 

"Rats !"  answered  Dave.  "You'll  come  in  fifth, 
Plum.  You're  winded  already!"  And  then,  with 
a  mighty  effort,  he  leaped  to  the  front,  with  Cashod 
on  his  heels.  "Poole  didn't  do  your  dirty  work 
well  enough,"  he  flung  back  over  his  shoulder  as  he 
took  his  fourth  hurdle. 

The  taunts  angered  Gus  Plum,  and  this  made 
him  lose  ground,  until,  almost  before  he  knew  it, 
the  third  pupil  in  the  race  dashed  past  him.  Then 
he  found  himself  neck-and-neck  with  the  fifth  con- 
testant. 

"Here  they  come !" 

"Dave  Porter  is  ahead,  with  Cashod  second!" 

"Collins  has  taken  third  place !" 

"Plum  and  Higgins  are  tied  for  fourth  place!" 

"Not  much!     Higgins  is  ahead!" 

"And  there  goes  Sanderson  ahead  of  Plum,  too ! 


Dave    cleared    the    last    hurdle    and   came    in    a    winner. 
Page  87. 


HOW  A  RACE  WAS  WON  S7 

Phew!  Wonder  if  that  is  what  Plum  calls  win- 
ning?   He  had  better  study  his  dictionary!" 

With  a  mighty  leap  Dave  cleared  the  last  hur- 
dle, and  came  in  a  winner.  Then  the  others  finished 
in  the  order  named,  excepting  that  Gus  Plum  was 
so  disgusted  that  he  refused  to  take  the  last  hurdle, 
for  which  some  of  the  boys  hissed  him,  considering 
it  unsportsmanlike,  which  it  was. 

"My  shoe  got  loose,"  said  the  bully,  lamely.  "If 
it  hadn't  been  for  that,  I  should  have  won."  But 
nobody  believed  him. 

"Dave,  the  way  you  went  ahead  was  simply 
great,"  cried  Phil.  "It  was  as  fine  a  hurdle  race 
as  I  ever  saw." 

"Yes,  and  he  helped  me,  too,"  said  Cashod.  "I 
was  thinking  Plum  would  go  ahead,  until  Porter 
laughed  at  him.  It  was  all  right,"  and  Cashod 
bobbed  his  head  to  show  how  satisfied  he  was. 

If  Nat  Poole  had  been  disgusted  Gus  Plum  was 
more  so,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  disappearing  from 
public  gaze.  The  two  cronies  met  back  of  the 
gymnasium. 

"You  hurt  Porter  about  as  much  as  I  hurt  Bass- 
wood,"  Plum  grumbled.  "If  you  can't  do  better 
than  that  next  time,  you  had  better  give  up  trying." 

"Oh,  'the  pot  needn't  call  the  kettle  black,'  " 
retorted  Poole.  "You  made  just  as  much  of  a  mess 
of  it  as  I  did.  We'll  be  the  laughing  stock  of  the 
Porter  crowd  now." 


88     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"If  they  laugh  at  me,  I'll  punch  somebody's  nose. 
As  it  is,  I've  got  an  account  to  settle  with  Porter, 
and  I  am  going  to  settle  it  pretty  quick,  too." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"He  jeered  me  while  we  were  in  the  race. 
He  has  got  to  take  it  back,  or  there  is  going  to  be 
trouble,"  muttered  the  bully,  clenching  his  fists. 

In  his  usual  bragging  way  Gus  Plum  let  several 
students  know  that  he  "had  it  in"  for  Dave,  and 
this  reached  the  country  boy's  ears  the  next  day 
directly  after  school. 

"I  am  not  afraid  of  him,"  said  Dave,  coolly. 
"If  he  wants  to  find  me,  he  knows  where  to  look 
for  me." 

Shortly  after  this  Dave  and  some  of  his  chums 
took  a  walk  down  to  the  boathouse  dock.  There 
they  ran  into  Plum,  Poole,  and  several  of  their 
admirers. 

"Here  is  Porter  now!"  said  one  boy,  in  a  low 
voice.     "Now  is  your  chance,  Gus." 

"Yes,  let  us  see  you  do  what  you  said,"  came 
from  another. 

Plum  had  not  expected  an  encounter  so  soon,  but 
there  seemed  to  be  no  way  of  backing  out,  so  he 
advanced  quickly  upon  Dave,  and  clenched  his  fists. 

"You  can  fight,  or  apologize,"  he  said,  loudly. 

"Apologize,  to  you?"  queried  Dave,  coolly. 

"Yes,  to  me,  and  at  once,"  blustered  the  bully. 

"I  am  not  apologizing  to  you,  Plum." 


HOW  A  RACE  WAS  WON  89 

"Then  you'll,  fight." 

"If  you  hit  me,  I  shall  defend  myself." 

"Hit  you?  If  I  sail  into  you,  you'll  think  a 
cyclone  struck  you.  If  you  know  where  you  are 
wise,  you'll  apologize." 

"On  the  contrary,  Plum,  I  want  to  let  you  and  all 
here  know  what  I  think  of  you.  You  are  a  bully,  a 
braggart — and  a  coward!" 

Dave's  eyes  were  flashing  dangerously,  and  as 
he  gazed  steadily  at  Plum,  the  latter  backed  away 
a  step. 

"You — you  dare  to  talk  to  me  like  that?" 

"Why  not?  Nobody  ought  to  be  afraid  to  tell 
the  truth." 

"Oh,  don't  stand  gassing!"  burst  out  Nat  Poole. 
"Give  it  to  him,  Gus — give  it  to  him  good  and 
hard." 

"I  will !"  cried  the  bully,  and  making  a  quick 
leap,  he  delivered  a  blow  straight  for  Dave's  face. 

Had  the  blow  landed  as  intended,  the  country 
boy  would  undoubtedly  have  sustained  a  black  eye. 
But  Dave  ducked  slightly,  and  the  bully's  fist  shot 
past  his  ear.  Then  Dave  drew  off  and  hit  Plum  a 
stinging  blow  on  the  chin. 

"A  fight!  A  fight!"  was  the  rallying  cry  from 
all  sides,  and  in  a  twinkling  a  crowd  assembled  to 
see  the  impromptu  contest. 


CHAPTER   XI 

A    FIGHT   AND    ITS    RESULT 

"Dave,  if  you  fight,  and  Doctor  Clay  hears  of 
it,  you'll  get  into  trouble,"  whispered  Roger.  "You 
know  what  his  rules  are." 

"I  am  not  going  to  fight,  but  I'll  defend  myself," 
was  the  calm  answer. 

"Maybe  you're  afraid  to  fight,"  sneered  Nat 
Poole,  who  stood  close  by. 

Before  the  country  youth  could  answer,  Gus 
Plum  sprang  forward  and  aimed  another  blow  at 
Dave's  face.  Dave  ducked,  but  was  not  quite  quick 
enough,  and  the  fist  of  his  enemy  landed  on  his  ear. 

This  aroused  the  boy  from  Crumville  as  never 
before.  The  look  on  the  bully's  face  was  such  as  to 
nerve  him  to  do  his  best,  and,  casting  prudence  to 
the  winds,  he  "sailed  in"  with  a  vigor  that  aston- 
ished all  who  beheld  it.  One  fist  landed  on  Plum's 
nose  and  the  other  on  the  bully's  chin,  and  down  he 
went  in  a  heap  against  the  boathouse. 

"Have  you  had  enough?"  demanded  Dave,  his 
eyes  fairly  flashing. 

"No !"  roared  the  bully,  and  scrambling  up,  he 
rushed  at  Dave,  and  the  pair  clenched.     Around 

go 


A  FIGHT  AND  ITS  RESULT  91 

and  around  the  little  dock  they  wrestled,  first  one 
getting  a  slight  advantage  and  then  the  other. 

"Break  away!"  cried  some  of  the  students. 
"Break  away!" 

"I'll  break,  if  he'll  break  I"  panted  Dave.  Plum 
said  nothing,  for  he  was  doing  his  best  to  get  the 
country  boy's  head  in  chancery,  as  it  is  termed; 
that  is,  under  his  arm,  where  he  might  pummel  it 
to  his  satisfaction. 

But  Dave  was  on  his  guard,  and  was  not  to  be 
easily  caught.  He  knew  a  trick  or  two,  and,  watch- 
ing his  opportunity,  led  Plum  to  believe  that  he 
was  getting  the  better  of  the  contest.  Then,  with 
remarkable  swiftness,  he  made  a  half-turn,  ducked 
and  came  up,  and  sent  the  bully  flying  clean  and 
clear  over  his  shoulder.  When  this  happened  both 
were  close  to  the  edge  of  the  dock,  and,  with  a  cry 
and  a  splash,  Gus  Plum  went  over  into  the  river. 

"Gracious  !  did  you  see  that  fling !" 

"Threw  him  right  over  his  head  into  the  river!" 

"The  fellow  who  tackles  Dave  Porter  has  his 
hands  full  every  time  I" 

So  the  comments  ran  on.  In  the  meantime  Dave 
stood  quietly  on  the  edge  of  the  dock,  watching  for 
the  bully,  and  trying  to  regain  his  breath. 

Plum  had  disappeared  close  to  the  edge  of  the 
dock,  and  all  the  bystanders  expected  him  to  reap- 
pear almost  immediately.  But,  to  their  surprise,  he 
did  not  show  himself. 


92    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Where  is  he?    Why  doesn't  he  come  up?" 

"He  must  be  playing  a  trick,  on  Porter.  Maybe 
he  is  under  the  dock." 

"No,  he  can't  get  under  the  dock.  It  is  all 
boarded  up." 

"He  must  have  struck  his  head  on  something,  or 
got  a  cramp,  being  so  heated  up." 

Dave  continued  to  wait,  and  as  his  enemy  did 
not  come  to  light,  a  cold  chill  ran  over  him.  What 
if  Plum  was  really  hurt,  or  in  trouble  under  water? 
He  knew  that  the  bully  was  not  the  best  of 
swimmers. 

"There  he  is !"  came  in  a  shout  from  one  of  the 
boys,  and  he  pointed  out  into  the  stream,  to  where 
Gus  Plum's  body  was  floating  along,  face  down- 
ward. 

Dave  gave  one  look  and  his  heart  seemed  to  leap 
into  his  throat.  By  the  side  of  the  dock  was  a  row- 
boat,  with  the  oars  across  the  seats.  He  made  a 
bound  for  it. 

"Come,"  he  said,  motioning  to  Roger,  and  the 
senator's  son  followed  him  into  the  craft.  They 
shoved  off  with  vigor,  and  Dave  took  up  the  oars. 
Then  another  boat  put  off,  containing  Poole  and 
two  other  students. 

A  few  strokes  sufficed  to  bring  the  first  rowboat 
up  alongside  of  the  form  of  the  bully.  Plum  had 
turned  partly  over  and  was  on  the  point  of  sinking 
again,  when  Roger  reached  out  and  caught  him  by 


A  FIGHT  AND  ITS  RESULT  93 

the  foot.  Then  Dave  swung  the  rowboat  around, 
and  after  a  little  trouble  the  two  got  the  soaked 
one  aboard. 

Gus  Plum  was  partly  unconscious,  and  a  bruise 
on  his  left  temple  showed  where  his  head  had  struck 
some  portion  of  the  dock  in  falling.  As  they  placed 
him  across  the  seats  of  the  rowboat,  he  gasped, 
spluttered,  and  attempted  to  sit  up. 

"Better  keep  still,"  said  Dave,  kindly.  "We 
don't  want  the  boat  to  go  over." 

"Where  am  I  ?  Oh,  I  know  now !  You  knocked 
me  over." 

"Don't  talk,  Plum;  wait  till  we  get  back  to 
shore,"  warned  Roger. 

A  few  strokes  took  the  boat  back  to  the  dock, 
and  Dave  and  Roger  assisted  the  dripping  youth 
to  land.  Gus  Plum  was  so  weak  he  had  to  sit  down 
on  a  bench  to  recover. 

"You  played  me  a  mean  trick,"  he  spluttered,  at 
last.    "A  mean  trick!" 

"That's  what  he  did,"  put  in  Nat  Poole,  who 
had  also  returned  to  the  dock.  "I  guess  he  was 
afraid  to  fight  fair." 

"I  suppose  you  wanted  to  drown  me,"  went  on 
the  bully  of  Oak  Hall. 

"I  didn't  want  to  drown  you,  Plum — I  didn't 
even  want  to  push  you  overboard.  I  didn't  think 
we  were  so  close  to  the  dock's  edge." 

"Humph!      It's  easy  enough   to  talk!"     Gus 


94    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Plum  gazed  ruefully  at  his  somewhat  loud  summer 
suit.  "Look  at  my  clothes.  They  are  just  about 
ruined!" 

"Nonsense,"  came  from  Roger.  "They  need 
drying,  cleaning,  and  pressing,  that's  all.  You 
can  get  the  job  done  down  in  Oakdale  for  a  dollar 
and  a  half." 

"And  who  is  going  to  pay  the  bill?" 

"Well,  if  you  are  too  poor  to  do  it,  I'll  do  so," 
answered  Roger. 

This  reply  made  the  bully  grow  very  red,  and  he 
shook  his  fist  at  the  senator's  son. 

"None  of  your  insinuations!"  he  roared.  "I 
am  not  poor,  and  I  want  you  to  know  it.  My 
father  may  have  lost  some  money,  but  he  can  still 
buy  and  sell  your  father.  And  as  for  such  a 
poorhouse  nobody  as  your  intimate  friend  there, 
Porter " 

"For  shame,  Plum!"  cried  several. 

"Oh,  go  ahead  and  toady  to  him,  if  you  want  to. 
I  shan't  stop  you.  But  I'd  rather  pick  my  com- 
pany." 

"And  so  would  I,"  added  Nat  Poole.  "I  once 
heard  of  a  poorhouse  boy  who  was  the  son  of  a 
thief.  I'd  not  want  to  train  with  a  fellow  of  that 
sort." 

Dave  listened  to  the  words,  and  they  seemed  to 
burn  into  his  very  heart.  He  came  forward  with 
a  face  as  white  as  death  itself. 


A  FIGHT  AND  ITS  RESULT  95 

"Nat  Poole,  do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  I  am 
the  son  of  a  thief?"  he  demanded. 

"Oh,  a  fellow  don't  know  what  to  think,"  re- 
plied the  Crumville  aristocrat,  with  a  sneer. 

"Then  take  that  for  your  opinion." 

It  was  a  telling  blow,  delivered  with  a  passion 
that  Dave  could  not  control.  It  took  Nat  Poole 
squarely  in  the  mouth,  and  the  aristocrat  went  down 
with  a  thud,  flat  on  his  back.  His  lip  was  cut  and 
two  of  his  teeth  were  loosened,  while  the  country's 
boy's  fist  showed  a  skinned  knuckle. 

"Whoop  I  did  you  see  that !" 

"My !  what  a  sledge-hammer  blow !" 

"Poole  is  knocked  out  clean!" 

Such  were  some  of  the  comments,  in  the  midst 
of  which  Nat  Poole  sat  up,  dazed  and  bewildered. 
Then  he  gasped,  and  ejected  some  blood  from  his 
mouth. 

"You — you "  he  began. 

"Stay  where  you  are,  Nat  Poole,"  said  Dave,  in 
a  voice  that  was  as  cold  as  ice.  "Don't  you  dare 
to  budge!" 

"Wha-what?" 

"Don't  you  dare  to  budge  until  you  have  begged 
my  pardon." 

"Me?  Beg  your  pardon!  I'd  like  to  see  my- 
self!" 

"Well,  that  is  just  what  you  are  going  to  do  !  If 
you  don't,  do  you  know  what  I'll  do  ?     I'll  throw 


96    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

you  into  the  river  and  keep  you  there  until  you  do 
as  I  say." 

"Here,  you  let  him  alone!"  blustered  Plum, 
starting  to  rise. 

"Keep  out  of  this,  Plum,  or,  as  sure  as  I'm  stand- 
ing here,  I'll  throw  you  in  again,  too !"  said  Dave. 

"Dave "  whispered  Roger.     He  could  see 

that  his  friend  was  almost  beside  himself  with 
passion. 

"No,  Roger,  don't  try  to  interfere.  This  is  my 
battle.  They  have  been  talking  behind  my  back 
long  enough.  Poole  has  got  to  apologize,  or  take 
the  consequences,  and  so  has  Plum.  I'll  make  them 
do  it,  if  I  have  to  fight  them  both  !"  And  the  eyes 
of  the  country  boy  blazed  with  a  fire  that  the  sena- 
tor's son  had  never  before  seen  in  them.  "I  don't 
deny  that  I  came  from  the  poorhouse,  and  I  don't 
deny  that  I  know  nothing  of  my  past,"  went  on 
Dave,  speaking  to  the  crowd.  "But  I  am  trying 
to  do  the  fair  thing,  every  boy  here  knows  it,  and 
_and " 

"We  are  with  you,  Dave !"  came  from  the  rear 
of  the  crowd,  and  Luke  Watson  pushed  his  way  to 
the  front,  followed  by  Phil,  Shadow,  and  Buster 
Beggs. 

"Dave  Porter  is  one  of  the  best  fellows  in  this 
school,"  cried  Phil. 

"And  Plum  and  Poole  are  a  couple  of  codfish," 
added  Buster. 


A  FIGHT  AND  ITS  RESULT  97 

"I — I — am  a  codfish,  am  I?"  roared  Plum. 

"You  are,  Gus  Plum.  You  say  things  behind 
folks'  backs  and  try  to  bully  the  little  boys,  and  in 
reality  you  are  no  better  than  anybody  else,  if  as 
good.     You  make  me  sick." 

"I'll — I'll  hammer  you  good  for  that !" 

"All  right,  send  me  word  when  you  are  ready," 
retorted  Buster. 

In  the  meantime  Dave  was  still  standing  over 
Nat  Poole.  Suddenly  he  caught  the  aristocratic 
youth  by  the  ear  and  gave  that  member  a  twist. 

"Ouch !  Let  go  !"  yelled  Nat  Poole.  "Let  go ! 
Don't  wring  my  ear  off !" 

"Will  you  apologize?"  demanded  Dave,  and 
gave  the  ear  a  jerk  that  brought  tears  to  Poole's 
eyes. 

"I — I — oh,  you'll  have  my  ear  off  next !  Oh, 
you  wait — oh  !  oh !     If  I  ever  get — ouch!" 

"Say  you  are  sorry  you  said  what  you  did  to 
me,"  went  on  Dave,  "or  into  the  river  you  go!" 
And  despite  Poole's  efforts,  he  dragged  the  aristo- 
crat toward  the  edge  of  the  dock. 

"No!  no!  Oh,  I  say,  Porter!  Oh,  my  ear!  I 
don't  want  to  go  into  the  river!  I — I — I  take  it 
back — I  guess  I  made  a  mistake.    Oh,  let  me  go !" 

"You  apologize,  then?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  get  out,  and  after  this  behave  yourself," 
said  Dave,  and  gave  Nat  Poole  a  fling  that  sent 


98    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

him  up  against  the  boathouse  with  a  bang.  In 
another  instant  he  was  by  Gus  Plum's  side.  "Now 
it's  your  turn,  you  overgrown  bully,"  he  continued. 

"Wha-what  do  you  mean?"  stammered  Plum, 
who  had  looked  on  the  scene  just  enacted  with  a 
sinking  heart. 

"I  mean  you  must  apologize,  just  as  Poole  has 
done." 

"And  if  I  won't?" 

"I'll  thrash  you  till  you  do — no  matter  what  the 
consequences  are,"  and  Dave  hauled  off  his  jacket 
and  threw  off  his  cap. 

"Would  you  hit  a  fellow  when  he  is — er — half 
drowned?"  whined  the  bully. 

"You're  not  half  drowned — you're  only  scared, 
Plum.  Now,  then,  will  you  apologize  or  not?" 
And  Dave  doubled  up  his  fists. 

"I— I  don't  have  to.    I— I— oh!" 

The  words  on  Plum's  lips  came  to  a  sudden  end, 
for  at  that  instant  the  country  boy  caught  him  by 
the  throat  and  banged  his  head  up  against  the 
boathouse  side. 

"Now  apologize,  and  be  quick  about  it,"  said 
Dave,  determinedly. 

"Oh,  my  head!  You  have  cracked  my  skull! 
I'll — I'll  have  the  law  on  you !" 

"Very  well,  I'm  willing.  But  you  must  apolo- 
gize first!"  And  Plum's  head  came  into  contact 
with  the  boathouse  side  again,  and  he  saw  stars. 


A  FIGHT  AND  ITS  RESULT  99 

"Oh!  Let  up — stop,  Porter!  Don't  kill  me! 
I — I — take  it  back !  I — I  apologize  !  I — I  didn't 
mean  anything !  Let  up,  please  do  !"  shrieked  Gus 
Plum,  and  then  Dave  let  go  his  hold  and  stepped 
back. 

"Now,  Gus  Plum,  listen  to  me,"  said  the  country 
boy.  "Let  this  end  it  between  us.  If  you  don't,  let 
me  tell  you  right  now  that  you  will  get  the  worst 
of  it.  After  this,  keep  your  distance  and  don't 
open  your  mouth  about  me.  I  shan't  say  anything 
to  Doctor  Clay  about  this,  but  if  you  say  anything, 
I'll  tell  him  all,  and  I  know,  from  what  he  has 
already  said,  that  he  will  stand  by  me." 

"Maybe  he  doesn't  know " 

"He  knows  everything  about  my  past,  and  he 
has  asked  me  to  stay  here,  regardless  of  what  some 
mean  fellows  like  you  might  say  about  it.  But  I 
am  not  going  to  take  anything  from  you  and  Poole 
in  the  future;  remember  that!"  added  Dave,  and 
then  he  picked  up  his  cap  and  jacket,  put  them  on, 
and,  followed  by  Phil,  Roger,  and  a  number  of  his 
other  friends,  walked  slowly  away. 


CHAPTER    XII 

SHADOW   AS   A   SOMNAMBULIST 

The  manner  in  which  Dave  had  brought  Gus 
Plum  and  Nat  Poole  to  terms  was  the  talk  of  Oak 
Hall  for  some  time,  and  many  of  the  pupils  looked 
upon  the  country  boy  as  a  veritable  leader  and 
conqueror. 

"I  wish  I  had  been  there,"  said  Chip  Macklin 
to  Roger.  "It  must  have  been  great  to  see  Plum 
and  Poole  eat  humble  pie.  What  do  you  think 
they'll  do  about  it?" 

"They  won't  do  anything,  just  at  present,"  an- 
swered the  senator's  son.  "They  are  too  scared." 
And  in  this  surmise,  Roger  was  correct. 

But,  though  the  majority  of  the  students  sided 
with  Dave,  there  was  a  small  class,  made  up  of 
those  who  were  wealthy,  who  passed  him  by  and 
snubbed  him,  not  wishing  to  associate  with  any- 
body who  had  come  from  a  poorhouse.  They  said 
nothing,  but  their  manners  were  enough  to  hurt 
Dave  greatly,  and  more  than  once  the  country  boy 
felt  like  packing  his  trunk  and  bidding  good-by  to 
Oak  Hall  forever.    But  then  he  would  think  of  his 

ioo 


SHADOW  AS  A  SOMNAMBULIST       101 

many  friends  and  of  what  kind-hearted  Doctor 
Clay  had  said,  and  grit  his  teeth  and  declare  to 
himself  that  he  would  fight  the  battle  to  the  end, 
no  matter  what  the  cost. 

If  the  story  of  the  encounter  came  to  the  ears  of 
the  master  of  the  school  or  the  teachers,  nothing 
was  said  about  it,  and,  in  the  multitude  of  other 
events  coming  up,  the  incident  was  forgotten  by  the 
majority.  But  Dave  did  not  forget,  and  neither 
did  Plum  and  Poole. 

"Oh,  how  I  detest  that  chap !"  grumbled  Poole 
to  Plum,  one  night  when  they  were  alone.  "Gus, 
we  must  get  square." 

"That's  right,"  returned  the  bully.  "But  not 
now.  Wait  till  he  is  off  his  guard,  then  we  can  fix 
him,  and  do  it  for  keeps,  too !" 

On  the  following  Saturday  evening  Chip  Mack- 
lin  called  Dave  to  one  side.  The  young  student 
was  evidently  excited  over  something. 

"What  is  it,  Chip?"  asked  Dave.  "Hurry  up, 
I  can't  wait  long,  for  I  want  to  join  the  fellows  in 
the  gym." 

"I  want  to  tell  you  something  about  Gus  Plum," 
was  the  answer.  "I  think  I've  discovered  some- 
thing, but  I  am  not  sure." 

"Well,  out  with  it." 

"This  afternoon  I  got  permission  to  ride  over  to 
Rockville  on  my  bicycle,  to  get  some  shirts  at  the 
furnishing  store  there.    Well,  when  I  came  out  of 


102    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

the  store,  I  saw  Gus  Plum  coming  out  of  the  post- 
office  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street.  He  had 
some  letters  in  his  hand,  and  he  turned  into  the 
little  public  park  near  by,  sat  down  on  a  bench,  and 
began  to  read  them." 

"Well,  what  is  remarkable  about  that,  outside 
of  the  fact  that  he  is  supposed  to  get  all  his  letters 
in  the  Hall  mail?"  remarked  Dave. 

"That's  just  it.  I  made  up  my  mind  something 
was  wrong,  or  else  he'd  have  his  mail  come  here. 
I  saw  him  tear  three  of  the  envelopes  to  pieces  and 
scatter  the  bits  in  the  grass.  When  he  went  away, 
I  walked  over  to  the  spot  and  picked  up  such  bits 
of  paper  as  I  could  find.  Of  course,  you  may  say' 
I  was  a  sneak  for  doing  it,  but  just  look  at  what  I 
found." 

"I  have  no  desire,  Chip,  to  pry  into  Plum's  pri- 
vate affairs." 

"Yes,  but  this  is  not  his  private  affair — to  my 
way  of  thinking.  It  concerns  the  whole  school," 
returned  Chip  Macklin,  eagerly. 

Dave  glanced  at  the  bits  of  paper,  and  at  once 
became  interested.  One  piece  contained  the  words, 
"Stamp  Dealer";  another,  "Rare  Sta —  w  York," 
and  another,  "Stamps  Bought  and  Sold  by  Isaac 
Dem nett  Street,  Sa " 

"These  must  have  come  from  dealers  in  stamps," 
said  Dave,  slowly. 

"That  is  what  I  thought." 


SHADOW  AS  A  SOMNAMBULIST       103 

"Did  you  ever  know  Gus  Plum  to  be  interested 
in  stamps?" 

"No." 

"Were  the  letters  addressed  to  him?" 

"I  don't  know.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I 
couldn't  find  any  of  the  written-on  portions  of  the 
envelopes." 

"Did  Plum  see  you?" 

"Not  until  later — when  I  was  on  my  way  back 
to  the  Hall." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Nothing.  He  acted  as  if  he  wanted  to  avoid 
me." 

After  this  the  pair  talked  the  matter  over  for 
several  minutes,  but  could  reach  no  satisfactory 
conclusion  regarding  the  bits  of  paper. 

"Do  as  you  think  best,  Chip,"  said  Dave,  at  last. 
"If  you  want  to  go  to  Doctor  Clay,  I  fancy  he  will 
be  glad  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say." 

"Well,  if  Plum  has  those  lost  stamps,  don't  you 
think  he  should  be  made  to  return  them?" 

"By  all  means.  But  you've  got  to  prove  he  has 
them  first,  and  the  doctor  won't  dare  to  say  any- 
thing to  Plum  until  he  is  sure  of  what  he  is  doing. 
Otherwise,  Plum's  father  could  raise  a  big  row, 
and  he  might  even  sue  the  doctor  for  defamation 
of  character,  or  something  like  that." 

A  little  later  found  Chip  Macklin  in  the  doctor's 
office.    The  small  boy  was  rather  scared,  but  told 


104    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

a  fairly  straight  story,  and  turned  over  the  bits  of 
paper  to  the  master  of  the  Hall.  Doctor  Clay  was 
all  attention. 

"I  will  look  into  this,"  he  said.  "In  the  mean- 
time, Macklin,  I  wish  you  would  keep  it  to  your- 
self." 

"I  have  already  told  Dave  Porter  about  it.  I 
wanted  his  advice." 

"Then  request  Porter  to  remain  quiet,  also,"  and 
Chip  said  that  he  would  do  as  asked,  and  later  on 
did  so. 

The  end  of  the  school  term  was  now  close  at 
hand,  and  Dave  turned  to  his  studies  with  renewed 
vigor,  resolved  to  come  out  as  near  to  the  head  of 
the  class  as  possible.  He  received  several  letters 
from  Professor  Potts,  Mr.  Wadsworth,  and  a  deli- 
cately scented  note  from  Jessie,  and  answered  them 
all  without  delay.  The  letter  from  Jessie  he  prized 
highly,  and  read  it  half  a  dozen  times  before 
he  stowed  it  carefully  away  among  his  few  valued 
possessions. 

On  Wednesday  evening  Dave  partook  rather 
freely  of  some  hash  that  was  served  up.  On  the 
sly,  Sam  Day  salted  his  portion,  and,  as  a  conse- 
quence, the  country  boy  went  to  bed  feeling  remark- 
ably thirsty.  He  drank  one  glass  of  water,  and  an 
hour  later  got  up  to  drink  another,  only  to  find  the 
water  pitcher  empty. 

"It's  no  use,  I've  got  to  have  a  drink,"  he  told 


SHADOW  AS  A  SOMNAMBULIST       105 

himself.  "And  if  I  catch  the  fellow  who  salted  my 
hash " 

He  slipped  into  part  of  his  clothing,  and,  taking 
the  water  pitcher,  made  his  way  through  the  hall- 
way to  the  nearest  of  the  bathrooms.  Here  he 
obtained  the  coldest  drink  possible,  and  then,  filling 
the  pitcher,  started  to  return  to  dormitory  No.  12. 

As  he  neared  the  dormitory,  he  saw  somebody 
pass  along  the  other  end  of  the  hallway.  It  was 
a  boy,  fully  dressed,  and  with  a  cap  set  back  on 
Hs  head. 

"Shadow  Hamilton  I"  he  murmured,  as  the  boy 
passed  close  to  a  dimly  burning  hall  light.  "Now, 
what  is  he  up  to?" 

He  put  down  his  pitcher  and  stole  forward,  until 
he  was  directly  behind  Shadow.  Then,  of  a  sud- 
den, he  beheld  the  boy  swing  around  and  put  out 
his  hands,  feeling  for  the  rail  of  a  rear  stairs. 
Shadow  Hamilton  was  fast  asleep. 

"He  is  doing  some  more  of  his  sleep-walking!" 
thought  Dave.    "Now,  what  had  I  best  do  ?" 

There  was  no  time  to  think  long,  for  the  sleep- 
walker was  already  descending  the  back  stairs 
slowly  and  noiselessly.  Dave  hurried  into  the 
dormitory,  set  down  the  pitcher,  and  aroused 
Roger,  who  was  nearest  to  him. 

"Come,  quick!"  he  whispered.  "Slip  on  your 
clothes,  and  don't  make  any  noise." 

"Oh,  I'm  too  sleepy  for  fun !"  murmured  Roger. 


106    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"This  isn't  fun,  it's  important.     Come,  I  say!" 

Thus  aroused,  the  senator's  son  rolled  from  his 
couch  and  hurried  into  his  clothing.  In  a  few  min- 
utes both  boys  had  their  shoes  and  caps  on,  and 
along  the  hallway  they  sped,  and  down  the  back 
stairs.  The  door  below  was  unlocked,  but  closed. 
Soon  they  were  out  in  the  rear  yard  of  the  Hall, 
and  there  they  beheld  Shadow  Hamilton  walking 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  boathouse. 

"Who  is  it?"  whispered  Roger. 

"It  is  Shadow.  He  is  walking  in  his  sleep.  I 
want  to  find  out  where  he  is  going  and  what  he'll 
do." 

"Humph !  This  certainly  is  interesting,"  an- 
swered the  senator's  son. 

"Whatever  you  do,  Roger,  don't  arouse  him,  or 
there  may  be  an  accident,"  cautioned  Dave.  "Let 
him  go  his  own  way." 

"But  he  may  hurt  himself,  anyway." 

"No,  he  won't.  A  sleep-walker  can  walk  a  slack 
wire,  if  he  tries  it,  and  never  tumble.  Haven't  you 
heard  of  them  walking  on  the  ridge  pole  of  a 
house?     I  have." 

"I've  read  about  such  things.  And  I  know  they 
say  you  mustn't  arouse  them.  He  is  going  into  the 
boathouse  1" 

The  chums  ran  forward  and  reached  the  door- 
way of  the  boathouse  just  as  Shadow  Hamilton 
was  coming  out.    The  somnambulist  had  a  pair  of 


SHADOW  AS  A  SOMNAMBULIST       107 

oars,  and  he  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the  dock  and 
untied  one  of  the  boats  and  leaped  in. 

"I  must  find  them !"  they  heard  the  youth  mutter 
to  himself.  "I  must  find  them  and  bring  them 
back!" 

"Did  you  hear  that?"  asked  Roger.  "What  is 
he  talking  about?" 

"That  remains  to  be  found  out.  Come,  let  us 
follow  him,"  returned  Dave. 

They  procured  two  pairs  of  oars,  and  were  soon 
in  another  boat  and  pulling  behind  Shadow  Hamil- 
ton. The  boy  who  was  asleep  seemed  to  possess 
supernatural  strength,  and  they  had  no  easy  time  of 
it  keeping  up  with  him.  His  course  was  up  the 
Leming  River,  past  Robbin's  Point,  and  then  into 
a  side  stream  that  was  rather  narrow,  but  almost 
straight  for  a  distance  of  two  miles. 

"Do  you  know  where  this  stream  leads  to?" 
questioned  Roger. 

"I  do  not." 

"Almost  to  the  old  castle  that  we  visited  last 
winter  on  our  skates,  the  day  we  caught  that  robber 
and  saved  Billy  Dill.  The  river  makes  half  a 
dozen  twists  and  turns  before  the  castle  is  reached, 
but  this  is  a  direct  route  and  much  shorter." 

"Can  it  be  possible  that  Shadow  is  going  to  the 
old  castle?"  queried  the  country  boy. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  We'll  learn  pretty 
soon." 


108    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

As  my  old  readers  know,  the  place  referred  to 
was  a  dilapidated  structure  of  brick  and  stone 
which  had  been  erected  about  the  time  of  the  Revo- 
lutionary War.  It  set  back  in  a  wilderness  of 
trees,  and  was  given  over  largely  to  the  owls  and 
to  tramps.  It  belonged  to  an  unsettled  estate  that 
had  gone  into  litigation,  and  there  was  no  telling 
if  it  would  ever  be  rebuilt  and  occupied  in  a 
regular  way. 

It  was  dark  under  the  trees,  but  by  pulling  close 
to  the  boat  ahead,  Dave  and  Roger  managed  to 
keep  Shadow  Hamilton  in  sight.  As  soon  as  the 
somnambulist  came  near  to  the  castle  he  ran  his 
boat  up  the  bank,  leaped  ashore,  and  stalked  toward 
the  building. 

"He  has  disappeared!"  cried  Roger,  softly. 

"I  see  him,"  answered  Dave.  "Come !"  and  he 
led  the  way  into  the  old  structure  and  to  the  very 
rooms  where  the  encounter  with  the  robber  and 
with  Billy  Dill  had  occurred. 

Scarcely  daring  to  breathe,  they  watched  Shadow 
move  around  in  an  uncertain  way,  touching  this 
object  and  that,  and  opening  and  shutting  several 
closet  doors,  and  even  poking  into  the  chimney- 
place. 

"Gone!  gone!  gone!"  they  heard  him  mutter. 
"What  shall  I  do?  What  shall  I  'do?"  And  he 
gave  a  groan. 

Five  minutes  passed  and  the  sleep-walker  left 


SHADOW  AS  A  SOMNAMBULIST       109 

the  castle  and  hurried  to  his  boat.  His  course  was 
now  down  the  stream  toward  the  Hall,  and  Dave 
and  Roger  followed,  as  before.  At  the  dock  the 
boats  were  tied  up,  the  oars  put  away,  and  Shadow 
Hamilton  went  back  to  the  room  from  which  he 
had  come.  Peering  in,  Dave  and  Roger  saw  him 
undress  and  go  to  bed,  just  as  if  nothing  out  of  the 
ordinary  had  occurred. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

A  PHOTOGRAPH  OF  IMPORTANCE 

"I  should  not  believe  it,  had  I  not  seen  it  with 
my  own  eyes." 

It  was  in  this  fashion  that  Roger  expressed  him- 
self on  the  following  day,  when  discussing  the 
affair  of  the  night  previous  with  Dave.  Shadow 
was  around,  as  usual.  He  looked  sleepy,  but  other- 
wise acted  as  if  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  had 
happened. 

"It  certainly  is  remarkable,"  was  Dave's  com- 
ment. "The  question  is,  what  made  him  go  to  the 
castle?  I  think  I  know,  but  I  cannot  speak  about 
it.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  I  should  like  to  do, 
Roger :  go  up  to  the  castle  while  it  is  daylight  and 
take  a  thorough  look  around." 

Roger  was  willing  to  do  this,  and  the  upshot  of 
the  talk  was  that  Dave  and  the  senator's  son  paid 
the  old  brick-and-s'tone  structure  a  visit  on  the  fol- 
lowing Saturday  half-holiday,  taking  Phil  and  Ben 
with  them.  They  went  up  in  a  boat  by  the  short 
route,  arriving  there  about  half-past  three  o'clock. 

There  was  not  a  soul  about  the  deserted  mansion, 
and  the  few  birds  flew  away  at  their  approach.     It 


A  PHOTOGRAPH  OF  IMPORTANCE  in 

was  a  clear,  sunny  day,  and  they  lost  no  time  in 
throwing  every  door  and  window  wide  open,  so 
that  they  might  have  the  full  benefit  of  the  light 
and  fresh  air. 

"Here  is  the  room  in  which  he  moved  around  the 
most,"  remarked  Roger,  gazing  around  earnestly. 
"But  I  can't  say  that  I  see  anything  unusual,  do 
you?" 

They  were  all  searching  around,  and  after  a  few 
minutes  had  passed  Ben  uttered  a  low  cry  and 
held  up  a  small  object,  almost  covered  with  dust 
and  dirt. 

"A  class  pin  I"  cried  Dave.  "We  must  see  if  we 
can  find  any  more  of  them." 

It  was  not  long  before  Phil  came  upon  two  pins 
sticking  on  a  board  of  a  closet.  Then  Roger  ran 
into  the  next  room  and,  after  a  short  hunt,  uncov- 
ered a  flat  pasteboard  box  with  several  more  of 
the  class  pins,  each  a  bit  tarnished  by  the  dampness, 
but  otherwise  uninjured. 

"He  must  have  come  for  the  pins,"  said  Ben. 
"That  solves  the  mystery  of  how  they  disappeared 
from  Mr.  Dale's  possession." 

"Here  is  a  postage  stamp !"  ejaculated  Phil,  and 
held  it  up.  "It's  an  old  German  issue,"  he  added. 
"And  here  are  half  a  dozen  others,  all  evidently 
torn  from  a  sheet.  Boys,  Shadow  must  have  taken 
the  doctor's  collection !" 

Dave  said  nothing  to  this,  for  he  had  discovered 


ii2     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

a  cupboard  in  a  corner,  tightly  closed  and  with  the 
wooden  button  of  the  door  missing.  He  now 
opened  the  door  of  the  cupboard  with  a  knife. 

"Hello,  what's  in  there?"  asked  Roger,  who 
was  behind  him. 

"Seems  to  be  some  clothing,"  answered  Dave, 
and  hauled  forth  some  loose  garments  and  also  an 
old  satchel.  The  garments  formed  part  of  a  sail- 
or's garb,  and  the  satchel  was  marked  on  the  bottom 
with  the  name,  "William  Dill." 

"It's  Billy  Dill's  missing  outfit!"  cried  Dave, 
eagerly.  "Oh,  Roger,  how  glad  I  am  that  I  have 
found  this !    It's  the  best  yet !" 

All  the  boys  were  interested,  for  they  knew 
Dave's  story  and  the  tale  of  the  strange  sailor. 
As  Dave  ran  to  the  light  with  the  satchel,  they 
crowded  around  him. 

"I  think  I  am  fully  justified  in  opening  this  grip," 
said  the  country  boy.  He  was  so  agitated  he  could 
scarcely  speak. 

"Why,  certainly,"  cried  Phil.  "Open  it,  by  all 
means.  It  may  throw  light  on  some  things  which 
Billy  Dill  has  been  unable  to  explain." 

The  satchel  was  not  locked  and  came  open  with 
ease.  Inside  was  a  bag  containing  some  loose  silver 
and  a  roll  of  forty-six  dollars  in  bankbills.  There 
was  also  a  locket,  containing  the  picture  of  a 
motherly  old  lady,  probably  the  sailor's  parent. 
Under  the  locket  were  a  small  Bible  and  a  work  on 


A  PHOTOGRAPH  OF  IMPORTANCE  113 

ocean  navigation,  and  at  the  bottom  a  thick,  brown 
envelope  containing  a  photograph. 

"Let  us  see  whose  picture  that  is,"  said  Phil,  and 
Dave  opened  the  envelope  and  drew  the  photo- 
graph forth.  As  he  held  it  up  there  was  a  general 
cry,  in  which  he  was  forced  to  join. 

"That's  the  man  who  looks  like  you,  Dave!" 
cried  Roger. 

"What  a  striking  resemblance !"  exclaimed  Phil. 

"And  he  has  the  mustache,  just  as  the  sailor 
said,"  added  Ben.  "Dave,  that  man  looks  enough 
like  you  to  be  your  older  brother,  or  your  father !" 

Dave  said  nothing,  for  he  was  too  much  over- 
come to  speak.  As  he  gazed  at  the  picture,  he 
began  to  tremble  from  head  to  foot.  Taking  away 
the  mustache,  the  face  was  exactly  like  his  own, 
only  older  and  more  careworn.  He  did  not  won- 
der that  Billy  Dill  had  become  confused  because  of 
the  resemblance.  He  turned  the  picture  over. 
There  was  not  a  scrap  of  printing  or  writing  on 
it  anywhere. 

What  was  the  meaning  of  this  mystery?  What 
was  this  man  to  him?  Was  he  the  man  who 
had  once  lost  a  child  through  a  crazy  nurse?  In 
his  perplexed  state  of  mind,  the  questions  were 
maddening  ones  to  the  boy. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it,  Dave?"  asked  Phil, 
after  a  pause,  and  the  eyes  of  all  the  others  were 
turned  on  the  poorhouse  boy. 


114    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"What  do  I  think  of  it?"  he  repeated,  slowly. 
"I  think  this:  I  am  going  to  find  this  man,  if  he  is 
alive,  even  if  I  have  to  go  around  the  world  to  do 
it.  He  must  know  something  of  my  past — most 
likely  he  is  a  relative  of  mine.  I  am  going  to  be  a 
poorhouse  nobody  no  longer.  I  am  going  to  estab- 
lish my  identity — and  I  am  going  to  do  that  before 
I  do  anything  else." 

Dave  spoke  deliberately,  weighing  every  word. 
It  was  almost  as  if  he  was  registering  a  vow.  The 
others  saw  a  look  of  determination  settle  on  his 
face,  and  knew  that  he  would  do  as  he  said. 

The  boy  from  the  country  had  suddenly  lost 
interest  in  clearing  up  the  mystery  surrounding 
Shadow  Hamilton,  and  allowed  the  others  to  finish 
the  search  for  class  pins  and  postage  stamps.  One 
more  pin  was  found  and  three  rare  stamps  from 
Brazil,  and  then  the  search  was  abandoned,  and 
they  returned  to  Oak  Hall,  Dave  carrying  the 
sailor's  possessions. 

That  evening  there  was  an  interesting  interview 
in  Doctor  Clay's  office,  in  which  Dave  and  his 
friends  took  an  active  part.  The  worthy  master 
of  Oak  Hall  listened  to  all  the  boys  had  to  tell  with 
keen  attention,  and  smiled  quietly  when  told  how 
Dave  and  Roger  had  first  followed  Shadow  in  his 
somnambulistic  feat.  He  took  possession  of  the 
class  pins  and  the  stamps,  and  said  the  latter  were 
undoubtedly  from  his  collection. 


A  PHOTOGRAPH  OF  IMPORTANCE     115 

"We  now  have  nearly  all  of  the  class  pins,"  he 
said.  "But  fully  nine-tenths  of  the  postage  stamps 
are  still  missing  and  they  represent  a  value  of  at 
least  twenty-five  hundred  dollars.  I  am  tolerably 
sure  that  Maurice  Hamilton  took  them  in  his  sleep, 
but  the  question  is,  did  he  destroy  the  others,  or  did 
somebody  else  come  along  and  take  them?" 

"I  believe  Chip  Macklin  came  to  see  you,  sir," 
said  Dave,  significantly. 

"He  did,  Porter,  and  I  am  going  to  follow  that 
clew  up — if  it  is  a  clew,"  answered  Doctor  Clay, 
gravely. 

After  the  others  had  departed,  Dave  showed  the 
things  he  had  found  belonging  to  Billy  Dill.  The 
master  of  the  Hall  was  as  much  astonished  as  any- 
body over  the  resemblance  between  his  pupil  and 
the  photograph,  and  examined  the  picture  with 
care. 

"I  do  not  wonder  that  you  wish  to  investigate 
this,"  said  he.  "I  should  wish  to  do  so,  were  I  in 
your  position." 

"I  have  simply  got  to  do  it,  Doctor !"  cried  Dave. 
"I  shall  not  be  able  to  settle  my  mind  on  a  thing 
until  it's  done.  Would  you  go  home  and  see  Mr. 
Wadsworth  and  Professor  Potts  first,  or  go  direct 
to  that  sailor?" 

"Why  not  send  a  long  letter  to  your  friends, 
telling  them  what  you  have  told  me  ?  You  can  add 
that  I  agree  that  the  photograph  resembles  you 


u6    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

closely,  and  that  you  wish  to  talk  the  matter  over 
once  again  with  this  William  Dill." 

As  impatient  as  he  was,  Dave  concluded  to  fol- 
low this  advice,  and  a  letter  of  ten  pages  was  sent 
to  Mr.  Wadsworth  and  to  Caspar  Potts  the  next 
morning.  In  the  meantime,  it  may  be  added  here, 
Doctor  Clay  had  a  closer  watch  than  ever  set  on 
Shadow  Hamilton's  movements,  and  he  also  began 
a  quiet  investigation  of  Gus  Plum's  doings. 

The  letter  that  Dave  sent  to  Crumville  created 
a  sensation  in  the  Wadsworth  household,  and  was 
read  and  re-read  several  times  by  the  members  of 
the  manufacturer's  family  and  by  Professor  Potts. 

"There  is  undoubtedly  something  in  this,"  said 
the  professor.  "It  certainly  is  entitled  to  a  strict 
investigation.  If  you  will  permit  me,  I  will  run  up 
to  Oak  Hall  to  see  Dave,  and  then  take  him  to  see 
this  Billy  Dill." 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  answered  the  rich  manu- 
facturer. "The  outing  will  do  us  both  good,  and  I 
am  greatly  interested  in  Dave's  welfare.  I  only 
trust  that  there  is  a  happy  future  in  store  for  him." 

"And  I  say  the  same,  sir,  for  no  boy  deserves  it 
more,"  answered  Professor  Potts. 

A  telegram  was  sent  to  Dave,  and  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  Oliver  Wadsworth  and  Caspar  Potts 
journeyed  to  Oakdale.  Dave  met  them  at  the 
depot  with  the  Hall  carriage. 

"There  he  is !"  exclaimed  old  Caspar  Potts,  rush- 


A  PHOTOGRAPH  OF  IMPORTANCE  117 

ing  up  and  shaking  hands.  "My  boy !  my  boy !  I 
am  glad  to  see  you  again  !"  And  he  fairly  quivered 
with  emotion. 

"And  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  cried  Dave,  in  re- 
turn. He  shook  hands  with  both  men.  "Mr. 
Wadsworth,  it  was  kind  of  you  to  answer  my  letter 
so  quickly,"  he  added. 

"I  knew  you  would  be  anxious,  Dave.  My,  how 
well  and  strong  you  look !  The  air  up  here  must  do 
you  good." 

"It  is  a  very  healthful  spot,"  answered  the 
youth,  "and  I  like  it  better  than  I  can  tell." 

"A  fine  school — a  fine  school !"  murmured  Pro- 
fessor Potts.     "You  could  not  go  to  a  better." 

On  the  way  to  the  Hall,  Dave  told  his  story  in 
detail,  and  exhibited  the  photograph,  which  he  had 
brought  with  him,  scarcely  daring  to  leave  it  out 
of  his  sight. 

"It  is  just  as  you  have  said,"  remarked  Oliver 
Wadsworth.  "A  most  remarkable  resemblance, 
truly!" 

"That  man  must  be  some  relative  to  Dave," 
added  Caspar  Potts.  "There  could  not  be  such  a 
resemblance  otherwise.  It  is  undoubtedly  the  same 
strain  of  blood.  He  may  be  a  father,  uncle,  cousin, 
elder  brother — there  is  no  telling  what;  but  he  is 
a  relative,  I  will  stake  my  reputation  on  it." 

The  visitors  were  cordially  greeted  at  Oak  Hall 
by  Doctor  Clay  and  made  to  feel  perfectly  at  home. 


u8    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

They  were  given  rooms  for  the  night,  and  in  the 
morning  the  doctor  and  his  visitors  and  Dave  had 
breakfast  together. 

It  had  been  decided  that  a  visit  should  be  paid 
to  Billy  Dill  that  very  afternoon,  and  by  nine 
o'clock  Mr.  Wadsworth,  Professor  Potts,  and 
Dave  were  on  the  way  to  the  town  where  was 
located  the  sanitarium  to  which  the  sailor  had  been 
taken.  Dave  had  the  tar's  satchel  and  clothing 
with  him,  and  the  precious  photograph  was  stowed 
away  in  his  pocket.  Just  then  he  would  not  have 
parted  with  that  picture  for  all  the  money  in  the 
world. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

A    GLEAM    OF    LIGHT 

"I  WOULD  advise  that  you  keep  that  satchel  and 
the  picture  out  of  sight  at  first,"  said  Professor 
Potts,  as  he  rang  the  bell  of  the  sanitarium.  "Talk 
to  the  old  sailor  and  try  to  draw  him  out.  Then 
show  him  his  belongings  when  you  think  the  time 
ripe." 

Mr.  Wadsworth  and  Dave  thought  this  good 
advice,  and  when  they  were  ushered  into  the  old 
sailor's  presence,  the  boy  kept  the  satchel  behind 
him. 

"Well,  douse  my  toplights,  but  I'm  glad  to  see 
ye  all !"  cried  Billy  Dill,  as  he  shook  hands.  "It's 
kind  o'  you  to  pay  a  visit  to  such  an  old  wreck  as 
I  am." 

"Oh,  you're  no  wreck,  Mr.  Dill,"  answered 
Oliver  Wadsworth.  "We'll  soon  have  you  as 
right  and  tight  as  any  craft  afloat,"  he  added,  fall- 
ing into  the  tar's  manner  of  speaking. 

"Bless  the  day  when  I  can  float  once  more,  sir. 
Do  you  know,  I've  been  thinkin'  that  a  whiff  o'  salt 
air  would  do  me  a  sight  o'  good.     Might  fix  my 

119 


120    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

steerin'  apparatus,"  and  the  tar  tapped  his  fore- 
head. 

"Then  you  must  have  a  trip  to  the  ocean,  by  all 
means,"  said  Caspar  Potts.  He  turned  to  the  rich 
manufacturer.    "It  might  be  easily  arranged." 

"Dill,  I  want  to  talk  to  you  about  the  time  you 
were  out  in  the  South  Seas,"  said  Dave,  who  could 
bear  the  suspense  no  longer.  "Now,  please  follow 
me  closely,  will  you?" 

"Will  if  I  can,  my  hearty."  The  sailor's  fore- 
head began  to  wrinkle.  "You  know  my  memory 
box  has  got  its  cargo  badly  shifted." 

"Don't  you  remember  when  you  were  down 
there — at  Cavasa  Island,  and  elsewhere — how  hard 
times  were,  and  how  somebody  helped  you." 

"Seems  to  me  I  do." 

"Don't  you  remember  traveling  around  with 
your  bundle  and  your  satchel?  You  had  some 
money  in  bankbills  and  some  loose  silver,  and  a 
work  on  navigation,  and  a  Bible " 

"Yes!  yes!  I  remember  the  Bible — it  was  the 
one  my  aunt  gave  me — God  bless  her !  She,  Aunt 
Lizzie — took  care  o'  me  when  my  mother  died,  an' 
she  told  me  to  read  it  every  day — an'  I  did,  most 
o'  the  time." 

"Well,  you  had  the  Bible  and  your  satchel  and 
your  bundle  of  clothes,"  went  on  Dave,  impress- 
ively. "And  at  that  time  you  fell  in  with  a  man 
who  afterwards  gave  you  his  photograph." 


"Tell  me  his  name,  at  once!" — Page  121. 


A  GLEAM  OF  LIGHT  121 

"So  I  did — the  man  who  looks  like  you.  But 
I " 

"Wait  a  minute.  Don't  you  remember  his  tell- 
ing you  a  story  about  a  crazy  nurse  and  a  lost 
child?" 

"I  certainly  do,  but " 

Dave  drew  the  photograph  from  his  pocket  and 
thrust  it  forward,  directly  before  the  tar's  eyes. 

"There  is  the  man!"  he  cried.  "Now,  what  is 
his  name?    Tell  me  his  name,  at  once!" 

"Dunston  Porter!"  fairly  shouted  the  sailor. 
"Dunston  Porter!  That's  it!  I  knew  I  would 
remember  it  sometime !  Dunston  Porter,  of  course 
it  was !  Funny  how  I  forgot  it.  Better  write  it 
down,  afore  it  slips  my  cable  again." 

"Dunston  Porter!"  murmured  Dave,  and  the 
others  likewise  repeated  the  name. 

"Ha!  this  is  remarkable!"  ejaculated  Caspar 
Potts.  "Dave,  do  you  remember  what  you  called 
yourself  when  you  were  first  found  and  taken  to 
the  poorhouse." 

"I  do,  sir.  I  called  myself  Davy,  and  Porter, 
and  Dun-Dun." 

"Exactly,  and  Dun-Dun  meant  Dunston.  You 
were  trying  to  repeat  the  name,  'Dunston  Porter' !" 

"That  would  seem  to  be  the  fact,"  came  from 

Oliver  Wadsworth.    "And  if  so "    He  paused 

significantly. 

"You  think  my  real  name  is  Dunston  Porter?" 


122    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Either  that,  or  else  that  is  the  name  of  some 
relative  of  yours." 

Dave's  heart  beat  fast.  He  felt  that  he  was 
getting  at  least  a  faint  glimpse  of  his  past.  He 
turned  again  to  Billy  Dill. 

"Then  this  Dunston  Porter  was  your  friend?" 
he  observed. 

"He  was,  and  he  helped  me  when  I  was 
stranded,"  was  the  answer.  "I  can't  give  ye  all  the 
particulars,  cos  some  o'  'em  is  more  like  a  dream 
than  anything  to  me.  When  I  try  to  think,  my 
head  begins  to  swim,"  and  the  sailor  wrinkled  his 
forehead  as  before  and  twitched  his  eyes. 

"Tell  me  one  thing,"  said  the  rich  manufacturer, 
"Do  you  think  this  Dunston  Porter  is  still  at  Ca- 
vasa  Island,  or  in  that  locality?" 

"I  suppose  so — I  don't  know." 

"When  did  you  come  away  from  there?"  asked 
Professor  Potts. 

"It  must  be  nigh  on  to  a  year  ago.  I  came 
straight  to  'Frisco,  went  up  the  coast  on  a  lumber 
boat  to  Puget  Sound,  and  then  took  passage  to  New 
York.  Next,  I  drifted  up  here  to  look  up  some 
friends,  and  you  know  what  happened  after  that." 

"Was  Dunston  Porter  alone  out  there?"  ques- 
tioned Oliver  Wadsworth. 

"Why — er — I  can't  say  as  to  that.  He  didn't 
say  much  about  himself,  that  I  can  remember. 
Once  he  told  me  about  that  child,  but — but  it's 


A  GLEAM  OF  LIGHT  123 

hazy — I  can't  think !  Oh,  it  drives  me  crazy  when 
I  try  to  think!  The  roar  of  the  sea  gets  in  my 
ears,  and  the  light  from  the  lighthouse  fires  my 
brain !"  And  the  old  tar  began  to  pace  the  floor 
in  a  rolling  gait. 

"He  is  growing  excited!"  whispered  Caspar 
Potts.  "It  is  too  bad !  Were  he  in  his  right  mind, 
he  might  be  able  to  tell  us  a  great  deal." 

"Supposing  we  go  out  and  have  lunch  together," 
suggested  Oliver  Wadsworth.  "And  then  we  can 
go  for  a  ride  on  the  lake." 

He  spoke  to  the  sanitarium  manager,  and  the 
upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  the  whole  party  went 
out  to  a  hotel  for  dinner.  Previous  to  going,  Dave 
gave  Billy  Dill  the  satchel  and  money  and  the 
bundle,  which  seemed  to  tickle  the  tar  immensely. 

"Douse  my  toplight,  but  I  feel  like  old  times 
again  !"  he  cried,  when  they  had  had  a  good  dinner 
and  were  seated  on  the  forward  deck  of  one  of  the 
lake  boats,  used  to  take  out  pleasure  parties.  "Oh, 
but  I  love  the  water !" 

"I  suppose  this  doesn't  look  anything  like  around 
Cavasa  Island,"  remarked  Dave,  trying  to  draw  the 
sailor  out. 

"Not  much,  my  boy.  Cavasa  Island  has  a  vol- 
cano in  the  middle  of  it,  and  once  in  a  while  that 
volcano  gets  busy,  and  folks  run  for  their  lives. 
An'  they  have  earthquakes,  too.  Once  I  was  out 
with  Dunston  Porter,  and  along  came  an  earth- 


124    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

quake,  and  the  other  fellow,  Mr.  Lemington,  al- 
most had  his  leg  broken." 

"Who  was  Mr.  Lemington?"  asked  Caspar 
Potts,  quickly. 

"Why,  he  was  Dunston  Porter's  partner  in  the 
treasure-hunting  scheme.  Oh,  I  didn't  tell  you 
about  that,  did  I  ?  Funny,  how  it  slipped  my  mind, 
eh?  They  went  to  the  volcano  for  the  treasure. 
I  guess  that  was  when  the  baby  disappeared — and 
that  other  man- — I  don't  remember  much  of  him, 
he  was  wild.  It  was  misty,  misty.  But  they  didn't 
get  any  treasure,  I  know  that.  And  then  Mr. 
Lemington  got  disgusted  and  sailed  for  Australia." 

"Did  you  ever  see  the  baby?"  asked  Dave. 

"Did  I?   Why — I  think  so.    I  don't  remember." 

This  was  all  they  could  get  out  of  the  sailor,  try 
their  best,  and,  upon  Oliver  Wadsworth's  advice, 
they  did  not  bother  him  any  further.  Before  re- 
turning to  the  sanitarium,  the  rich  manufacturer 
called  Dave  to  one  side. 

"Dave,  do  you  want  to  go  to  Cavasa  Island?" 
he  asked,  with  a  quiet  smile. 

"I  do,"  was  the  prompt  answer.  "I  was  going 
to  speak  to  you  about  it.  You  know  I  told  you 
that  Phil  Lawrence  is  going — on  one  of  his  father's 
ships  this  summer.  I'd  like  very  much  to  go  with 
Phil." 

"Then  you  shall  go,  if  we  can  make  the  necessary 
arrangements.    Now,  what  I  want  to  know  is :  Do 


A  GLEAM  OF  LIGHT  125 

you  not  think  it  would  be  an  excellent  thing  to  take 
this  Billy  Dill  along?  The  trip  might  cure  him 
entirely,  and  he  might  aid  you  greatly  in  clearing 
up  this  mystery." 

"Why,  Mr.  Wadsworth,  you  must  have  been 
reading  my  thoughts!"  exclaimed  the  country  boy. 
"I  was  going  to  suggest  that  very  thing." 

"Then  we  will  speak  to  Dill  about  it  before  we 
leave  him.  Do  you  know  when  your  friend  Law- 
rence is  to  join  his  father's  ship?" 

"No,  sir;  but  I  can  soon  find  out.  And  here  is 
Mr.  Lawrence's  address,  if  you  want  it,"  added 
Dave,  and  wrote  it  on  a  card. 

When  the  idea  of  sailing  on  the  Pacific  once  more 
was  broached  to  Billy  Dill,  his  eyes  lit  up  with 
pleasure. 

"I'd  like  nothing  better!"  he  cried.  "I've  been 
a-thinkin'  I  might  ship  again.  I  can't  stay  an' 
be  spongin'  on  you  folks  any  longer,  it  wouldn't  be 
proper.  I  want  to  pay  up,  now  Dave  has  found 
my  money  for  me." 

"Keep  your  money,  Dill,"  returned  Oliver 
Wadsworth.  "You  may  need  it  later."  And  then 
he  explained  what  Dave  wished  to  do,  and  how  the 
tar  might  accompany  the  youth  on  his  long  trip. 

"I'll  go— an'  glad  o'  the  chance,"  said  Billy  Dill, 
readily.  "Just  draw  up  your  articles,  an'  I'll  sign 
'em  any  time  ye  want."  And  so  the  matter  was 
settled. 


126    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Dave  returned  to  Oak  Hall  late  that  night  in  a 
very  thoughtful  mood.  So  much  had  been  done 
and  said  that  he  wanted  time  in  which  to  think  it 
over.  It  was  not  until  the  next  day  that  he  got  a 
chance  to  talk  matters  over  with  Phil  and  Roger, 
both  of  whom  listened  attentively  to  his  tale. 

"It  seems  to  me  you  are  learning  something, 
Dave,"  said  Roger.  "I  hope  the  whole  matter  is 
cleared  up  before  long.  Then  Plum  and  Poole  will 
have  to  stop  casting  slurs  on  you." 

"And  now,  Phil,  I  want  to  go  out  to  the  South 
Seas  with  you,"  continued  Dave.  "And,  what  is 
more,  I  am  going  to  ask  your  father  to  find  a  place 
on  the  vessel  for  Billy  Dill." 

"I  fancy  he'll  do  that,  if  I  ask  him,"  answered 
Phil.  "I'll  write  and  tell  the  whole  story,  and  I 
know  he  will  be  as  much  interested  as  I  am." 

"I  wish  I  was  going  on  that  trip  with  you,"  said 
Roger.     "Such  an  outing  would  suit  me  to  a  T." 

"I  guess  there  will  be  room  enough  for  another 
passenger,"  answered  Phil.  "Why  don't  you  ask 
your  folks  about  it?" 

"I  will!"  burst  out  the  senator's  son.  "They 
are  going  to  Europe,  you  know.  I  was  to  go 
along,  but  I'll  see  if  I  can't  go  with  you  two 
instead." 

After  that  there  was  a  good  deal  of  letter-writ- 
ing, and  the  boys  waited  anxiously  for  replies.  In 
the  meanwhile,  the  final  examinations  for  the  term 


A  GLEAM  OF  LIGHT  127 

began.  Dave  did  his  best  to  keep  his  mind  on  his 
lessons,  and  succeeded  so  well  that  he  came  out 
second  from  the  top,  studious  Polly  Vane  heading 
the  list.  Roger  came  next  to  Dave,  with  Ben  Bass- 
wood  fourth,  Phil  sixth,  and  Sam  Day  seventh. 
Gus  Plum  was  almost  at  the  end  of  the  list,  and 
Nat  Poole  was  but  little  better.  In  a  lower  class, 
Luke  Watson  stood  second,  Buster  Beggs  fourth, 
and  Chip  Macklin  fifth.  Shadow  Hamilton,  al- 
though generally  a  good  student,  dropped  to  tenth 
place  in  his  class. 

"I  am  more  than  gratified  at  this  showing,"  said 
Doctor  Clay,  when  the  examinations  were  over. 
"The  general  average  is  higher  than  usual.  You 
have  done  well,  and  I  shall  award  the  prizes  with 
much  pleasure." 

After  that  there  was  an  entertainment  lasting 
the  best  part  of  the  afternoon,  and  in  the  evening 
the  students  celebrated  by  a  bonfire  on  the  campus 
and  a  general  merrymaking.  They  sang  the  school 
song  over  and  over  again,  and  gave  the  Hall  cry: 

"  Baseball! 
Football! 
Oak  Hall 
Has  the  call! 
Biff!  Boom!  Bang!  Whoop!" 

"To-night's  the  night!"  whispered  Phil,  as  he 
entered  the  school  with  his  chums.  "Just  wait  and 
see!" 


CHAPTER   XV 

WINDING   UP   THE   SCHOOL   TERM 

"I  must  say,  I  don't  feel  much  like  fun  to-night," 
observed  Dave,  as  he  hurried  up  the  stairs  to 
dormitory  No.  12.  "I  am  anxious  to  get  started 
on  that  trip  to  the  Pacific." 

"Oh,  that  will  hold  for  one  day  longer,"  said 
Ben.  "I  wish  I  was  going,  too.  Roger,  have  you 
got  word  yet?" 

"No,  but  I  expect  a  letter  to-morrow.  If  it 
doesn't  come,  I'll  have  to  wait  till  I  get  home." 

Dave  was  in  advance  and  was  the  first  to  throw 
open  the  dormitory  door.  As  he  did  so,  a  power- 
ful smell  of  onions  greeted  him. 

"Great  Caesar!"  he  ejaculated.  "Smells  like  an 
onion  factory  up  here.  Somebody  must  have  been 
eating  a  dozen  or  two.  Open  the  window,  Phil, 
while  I  make  a  light." 

"Hello,  what's  this!"  spluttered  Ben,  and  fell 
headlong  over  something.  "A  decayed  cabbage! 
Who  put  that  on  the  floor?" 

"Look  out,  everybody !"  shouted  Roger.  "I  just 
stepped  on  something  soft.  Phew !  Some  decayed 
sweet  potatoes !" 

128 


WINDING  UP  THE  SCHOOL  TERM     129 

By  this  time  Dave  made  a  light,  and  all  of  the 
boys  who  had  come  up  gazed  around  the  dormitory. 
Then  a  cry  of  amazement  and  anger  arose. 

"This  is  a  rough-house,  and  no  mistake!" 

"Somebody  has  been  heaving  decayed  vegetables 
all  over  the  room !" 

"Yes,  and  ancient  eggs,  too !  This  is  an  out- 
rage!" 

"Here  is  a  rotten  cabbage  in  my  trunk!"  called 
out  Roger.  He  held  the  object  at  arm's  length. 
"I'd  like  to  soak  the  fellow  who  did  it !"  he  added, 
savagely. 

With  caution,  all  made  an  investigation.  They 
found  their  clothing  and  other  belongings  disar- 
ranged, and  decayed  vegetables,  stale  eggs,  and 
sour  milk  were  everywhere  in  evidence.  It  was  a 
mess  bad  enough  to  make  them  weep. 

"We  ought  to  report  this,"  was  Phil's  comment. 
"I  don't  mind  real  fun,  but  this  is  going  too 
far." 

"This  stuff  must  have  come  from  the  cellar,"  put 
in  Buster  Beggs.  "I  heard  the  head  cook  telling 
Pop  Swingly  that  the  place  must  be  cleaned  out, 
or  he  would  report  it  to  the  doctor.  Swingly  said 
he  didn't  know  the  bad  stuff  was  there." 

"Well,  Swingly  didn't  put  the  stuff  here,"  put  in 
Dave.  "It's  the  work  of  some  of  the  other 
fellows." 

"I   know   where   the   janitor   is!"    cried   Ben. 


i3o    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Shall  I  go  down  and  question  him?  Maybe  he 
can  give  us  a  pointer." 

"Yes,  go  ahead,"  said  Dave. 

"And  I'll  go  along,"  added  the  senator's  son, 
and  a  moment  later  the  two  boys  were  off. 

While  the  pair  were  gone,  the  others  surveyed 
the  damage  done.  The  most  of  the  decayed  vege- 
tables were  swept  into  a  corner,  and  then  the  boys 
did  what  they  could  toward  straightening  out  their 
things. 

"Here's  a  stale  egg  in  my  hat-box!"  groaned 
Sam.    "I'd  like  to  throw  it  at  some  fellow's  head  1" 

Dave  had  found  his  trunk  open,  and  was  search- 
ing the  box  with  care.  Suddenly  he  gave  a  loud 
cry: 

"It's  gone !     It's  gone !" 

"What's  gone?"  queried  Phil. 

"The  photograph !  I  had  it  among  my  books 
and  papers,  and  the  whole  bunch  is  missing!" 

"You  mean  the  photo  of  the  man  who  looks  like 
you?"  asked  Sam,  quickly. 

"Yes."  Dave  gave  a  groan  that  came  straight 
from  his  heart.  "Oh,  boys,  I  must  get  that  back! 
I  can't  afford  to  lose  it !  I  must  get  it  back !  It  is 
worth  more  to  me  than  anything  in  the  world!" 
He  was  so  agitated  that  he  could  scarcely  control 
himself. 

"Let  us  hunt  for  the  picture,"  came  from  Buster 
Beggs,  who  knew  about  the  photograph,  and  all 


WINDING  UP  THE  SCHOOL  TERM     131 

started  a  search,  which  lasted  until  Ben  and  Roger 
returned. 

"We've  discovered  the  chaps  who  are  responsi- 
ble," said  Ben,  in  triumph. 

"They  are  Gus  Plum  and  Nat  Poole,"  asserted 
the  senator's  son.  "Pop  Swingly  was  throwing  this 
stuff  away  in  a  hole  back  of  the  campus,  when  Plum 
and  Poole  came  up.  He  heard  them  talking  about 
playing  a  trick,  but  he  didn't  think  they'd  lower 
themselves  by  touching  the  mess.  I  suppose  they 
thought  that  they  were  doing  something  quite 
smart." 

"Dave's  photo  is  gone,"  said  Phil.  "We  have 
been  hunting  for  it  everywhere." 

"You  don't  say !     Dave,  that  is  too  bad." 

"We  ought  to  make  Plum  and  Poole  clean  up 
this  mess,"  came  from  Buster.  "Let  us  try  to 
capture  them." 

The  suggestion  met  with  instant  approval,  and 
the  boys  started  to  locate  the  bully  and  his  crony. 
Plum  and  Poole  were  still  below,  but  Shadow  Ham- 
ilton announced  that  they  were  preparing  to  come 
up  by  a  side  stairs. 

"We  must  get  them,  sure !"  cried  Dave.  "I 
want  that  picture  back,  if  nothing  else." 

Soon  one  boy,  who  was  acting  as  a  spy,  an- 
nounced the  coming  of  Plum  and  Poole.  The  pair 
were  allowed  to  reach  the  door  of  their  dormitory, 
when  they  were   pounced   on   from   behind   and 


132    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

made  prisoners.  They  tried  to  escape,  but  the 
crowd  was  too  many  for  them,  and  towels  pulled 
down  over  their  mouths  kept  them  from  raising  an 
outcry. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  this?"  spluttered  Nat 
Poole,  when  he  found  himself  and  his  crony  in 
dormitory  No.  12,  and  with  the  door  closed  and 
locked. 

"It  means,  in  the  first  place,  that  I  want  my 
things  back,"  said  Dave,  "and  especially  a  photo- 
graph that  was  between  my  books." 

"Humph!  that  photo  is  burned  up,"  growled 
Gus  Plum. 

"Gus  Plum!"  gasped  Dave.  He  could  say  no 
more. 

"Plum,  do  you  mean  to  say  you  burned  that 
picture  up?"  demanded  Roger.  "If  you  did,  you 
ought  to  be  tarred  and  feathered  for  it !" 

"He  wouldn't  dare  to  do  it!"  came  boldly  from 
Phil.  "If  he  did,  I  know  what  Dave  will  do — have 
him  sent  to  jail  for  it." 

"Bah!  You  can't  send  me  to  jail  for  a  little 
fun,"  blustered  the  bully. 

"That  is  no  fun,  Plum,"  put  in  Ben.  "That 
photo  was  of  great  importance.  If  you  burned  it 
up,  you  will  surely  suffer." 

"Is  it  really  burned  or  not?"  muttered  Dave, 
hoarsely.  "Answer  me,  you — you  cur!"  and  he 
caught  the  bully  by  the  throat. 


WINDING  UP  THE  SCHOOL  TERM     133 

"Le-let  go — don't  strangle  me!  N-no — it's  all 
right.    I  was  only  fooling." 

"Then,  where  is  it?" 

"In  the — the  closet — on  the  top  shelf." 

Dave  dropped  his  hold  and  ran  to  the  closet 
pointed  out.  True  enough,  on  the  top  shelf,  in 
a  back  corner,  were  the  books,  with  the  precious 
photograph  between  them.  Dave  lost  no  time  in 
placing  the  picture  in  an  inside  pocket. 

"You're  a  fine  fellow,  not  to  take  a  bit  of  fun 
without  getting  mad,"  grumbled  Gus  Plum.  He 
did  not  dare  to  say  too  much  in  such  a  crowd. 

"So  you  call  this  fun?"  remarked  Phil,  sarcas- 
tically. "Fun  !  to  play  the  scavenger  and  bring  this 
stuff  up  here?  Well,  I  must  say,  I  don't  like  your 
preference  for  a  calling." 

"Look  here,  you  needn't  call  us  scavengers !" 
howled  Nat  Poole.     "I  am  a  gentleman,  I  am!" 

"Well,  you  brought  this  up  here,  you  and 
Plum." 

"It  was  only  a — re — a  joke.  Everybody  has 
got  to  put  up  with  jokes  to-night." 

"Well,  you  are  going  to  put  up  with  a  little  hard 
work,"  came  from  Roger. 

"Work?" 

"Yes.  You  and  Plum  are  going  to  clean  up  the 
muss  and  put  this  room  in  apple-pie  order." 

"Huh!  I  see  myself  doing  it!"  stormed  the 
aristocratic  youth. 


i34    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"You  will  do  it,"  observed  Ben.  "Isn't  that  so, 
fellows?" 

There  was  a  chorus  of  approvals. 

"So  take  off  your  coats  and  get  to  work,"  said 
Dave,  who  felt  easier,  now  that  he  had  the  picture 
back.     "I  guess  you  both  need  a  little  exercise." 

"I'll  be  hanged  if  I  do  a  stroke!"  roared  Gus 
Plum. 

Hardly  had  he  spoken,  when  Ben  caught  up  a 
pitcher  of  ice-water  and  held  it  over  the  bully's 
head. 

"Take  your  choice,  Plum  !"  he  cried,  and  allowed 
a  little  of  the  ice-water  to  trickle  down  the  bully's 
backbone.    There  was  a  roar  of  fright  and  a  shiver. 

"Oh!  Don't  do  that!  Do  you  want  to  freeze 
me  to  death!" 

"Now,  Poole,  maybe  you  want  some,"  added 
Ben,  advancing.  Poole  tried  to  retreat,  stumbled, 
and  sat  down  heavily  on  a  decayed  cabbage,  which 
squashed  beneath  him..   He  set  up  a  roar. 

"Now  see  what  you've  done,  Ben  Basswood! 
My  best  gray  suit,  too  1    I'll  fix  you  for  this  !" 

"Both  of  you  must  get  to  work !"  declared  Dave. 
"We'll  give  you  two  minutes  in  which  to  get 
started.    If  you  don't  start " 

"We'll  roll  you  in  the  decayed  vegetables  and 
kick  you  out,"  finished  Buster  Beggs.  With  the 
term  so  nearly  ended,  he  was  growing  reckless. 
"I'll  play  timekeeper,"  and  he  drew  out  his  watch. 


WINDING  UP  THE  SCHOOL  TERM     135 

Plum  and  Poole  begged  and  protested,  but  all  to 
no  purpose,  and,  badly  scared,  took  off  their  coats 
and  cuffs,  rolled  up  their  sleeves,  and  began  to  clean 
up  the  muss  they  had  made.  While  this  was  under 
way,  the  other  boys  of  the  dormitory  came  up  and 
viewed  the  scene  with  amazement  and  satisfaction. 

At  last  the  dirty  job  was  at  an  end,  at  least  so 
far  as  Plum  and  Poole  could  go.  They  had  worked 
hard  and  were  bathed  in  perspiration,  and  their 
hands  were  in  anything  but  a  clean  condition.  Both 
were  "boiling  mad,"  but  neither  dared  to  say  a 
word,  for  fear  the  others  would  make  them  do 
more. 

"New  you  have  learned  your  trade,"  said  Phil, 
finally,  "you  can  graduate  as  full-fledged  scaven- 
gers. When  you  go  out,  don't  fail  to  place  that 
bag  of  nasty  stuff  in  a  corner  of  your  own  room. 
The  smell  will  give  you  both  pleasant  dreams." 

"Phil  Lawrence "  began  the  bully. 

"Just  wait  till  I "  came  from  Nat  Poole. 

"Silence!"  cried  Dave.  "Not  a  word,  or  you'll 
be  sorry.     Take  up  the  bag.    Now,  march!" 

The  door  was  flung  open,  and  with  the  bag  of 
messy  stuff  between  them,  Plum  and  Poole  marched 
forth  into  the  corridor  and  to  the  stairs  leading  to 
the  back  yard.  The  boys  of  dormitory  No.  12 
watched  them  out  of  sight,  then  returned  to  their 
room. 

"I'll  wager  they  are  the  maddest  boys  in  the 


136    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Hall,"  said  Dave,  when  the  door  had  been  locked 
once  more. 

"Will  they  come  back,  do  you  think?"  questioned 
Roger. 

"I  don't  think  so.    But  we  can  be  on  our  guard." 

They  remained  on  guard  for  half  an  hour,  but 
Plum  and  Poole  did  not  reappear.  They  had  had 
enough  of  their  so-called  fun,  and  they  sneaked  out 
of  sight  at  the  first  opportunity. 

But,  without  this,  there  was  fun  galore  that  night 
in  the  various  dormitories.  Two  crowds  of  boys 
held  feasts,  to  which  even  the  monitors  were  in- 
vited, and  dormitories  Nos.  3  and  4  got  into  a 
pillow  fight,  in  the  midst  of  which  Job  Haskers 
appeared.  The  teacher  was  knocked  over  by  a 
pillow,  and  then  some  other  pillows  were  piled  on 
top  of  him.  After  that  he  was  hustled  out  of  the 
room,  and,  completely  bewildered,  he  rolled  down 
the  broad  stairs,  bumping  on  every  step.  Then 
Pop  Swingly  came  up,  followed  by  "Horsehair," 
the  carriage  driver,  to  quell  the  disturbance,  and 
each  received  a  pitcher  of  ice-water  over  his  head, 
which  made  both  beat  a  hasty  retreat.  But  by  one 
o'clock  the  school  quieted  down,  and  all  of  the 
pupils  went  to  sleep  as  if  nothing  out  of  the  ordi- 
nary had  occurred. 


"Good-by  to  Oak  Hall!"  —  Page  131 


CHAPTER    XVI 

PREPARING   FOR  A    LONG  TRIP 

"Whoop!  hurrah!  Off  we  go!  Good-by  to 
Oak  Hall!" 

The  carryall  belonging  to  the  school  was  moving 
away  from  the  campus.  It  was  loaded  with 
students  and  behind  it  came  two  wagons,  full  of 
trunks  and  dress-suit  cases.  Back  on  the  campus  a 
crowd  was  assembled  to  bid  the  departing  ones 
good-by. 

"Write  to  me  often !" 

"Don't  forget,  Tom!  Atlantic  City,  middle  of 
August!" 

"Be  sure  and  ask  him  to  join  the  team!" 

"Yes,  we  are  going  to  Casco  Bay.  Come  up,  if 
you  can." 

"Tell  Jack Say,  get  off  my  toes,  will  you? 

Tell  Jack  to  come  up  to  Lake  Titus,  back  of 
Malone.    We'll  give  him  a  dandy — " 

"Toot!  toot!  toot!  Now  then,  Horsehair,  start 
'em  up,  and  be  lively,  or  I'll  miss  that  connection 
for  Albany!" 

"I'll  start  'em  up,  all  right,  if  you  young  gents 
will  give  me  a  show,"  responded  the  driver.     "Say, 

137 


138    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Buster,  don't  use  the  whip.  Give  me  the  reins, 
Master  Porter." 

"Don't  you  want  me  to  drive,  Horsehair?" 

"No,  I  want Say,  you  in  the  back,  give 

me  my  hat,  will  you?"  shouted  the  driver,  turning 
around.    "I  ain't  a-going  a  step  till  I  git  that  hat !" 

"All  right,  Horsehair,  darling!"  replied  Sam 
Day.  "I  thought  I'd  keep  it  to  remember  you  by, 
but  if  you  want " 

"Which  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  story,"  said 
Shadow  Hamilton.  He  had  caught  the  humor  of 
the  occasion.     "A  lady  once " 

"No  stories  allowed,"  broke  in  Phil. 

"I  can't  tell  a  story  unless  I  speak  it  aloud," 
answered  Shadow,  tartly. 

"Phew,  what  a  pun!"  came  from  Roger.  "Some- 
body please  dump  him  off  for  that." 

"Hold  tight,  all  of  you!"  called  out  the  anxious 
driver,  and  with  a  lurch  the  carryall  made  a  turn 
and  started  out  of  the  academy  grounds  and  along 
the  broad  highway  leading  to  Oakdale.  All  of  the 
boys  shouted  themselves  hoarse,  and  horns  and 
rattles  added  to  the  din.  Such  a  thing  as  holding 
the  students  in  was  out  of  the  question,  and  Doctor 
Clay  and  his  assistants  did  not  attempt  it.  The 
doctor  and  Andrew  Dale  smiled  broadly  and  waved 
their  hands,  and  only  Job  Haskers  looked  bored. 
The  other  teachers  were  busy  in  the  building  and 
did  not  show  themselves. 


PREPARING  FOR  A  LONG  TRIP        139 

This  was  the  first  load  to  leave,  and  another 
was  ready  to  depart  directly  after  dinner.  Nearly 
all  of  the  boys  were  in  high  spirits,  and  sang  and 
"cut  up"  all  the  way  to  the  town,  much  to  the 
terror  of  Jackson  Lemond,  known  only  to  the  lads 
as  Horsehair,  because  he  carried  the  signs  of  his 
calling  continually. 

If  there  was  one  boy  in  the  crowd  particularly 
sober  at  times,  it  was  Shadow  Hamilton.  Doctor 
Clay  had  communicated  with  his  parents,  and  Mr. 
Hamilton  and  the  master  of  the  school  had  had  a 
long  conference  regarding  the  pins  and  stamps  that 
had  been  taken.  Shadow's  father  had  agreed  to 
pay  for  the  missing  articles,  if  they  could  not  be 
recovered  inside  of  the  next  few  months.  In  the 
meantime,  a  private  detective  was  to  be  called  in  to 
watch  the  movements  of  Gus  Plum. 

At  Oakdale  the  party  split  into  three  parts,  one 
to  go  up  the  railroad  line,  another  to  go  down,  and 
the  third  to  take  the  connection  for  Albany.  Phil, 
Roger,  Ben,  and  Dave  took  the  same  train,  and 
managed  to  get  seats  together. 

"I  wish  I  had  heard  from  my  folks,"  remarked 
Roger.  "But  I  think  it  is  all  right,"  he  added, 
hopefully. 

"Don't  be  too  sure,  Roger,"  said  Dave.  "I 
don't  want  you  to  be  disappointed." 

"I  shall  write  to  you  as  soon  as  I  get  home  and 
can  talk  to  my  father,"  said  Phil  to  Dave.    "We'll 


340    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

be  able  to  arrange  everything  without  much  trou- 
ble, I  am  sure." 

Near  the  end  of  their  journey  Dave  and  Ben 
found  themselves  alone,  Roger  and  Phil  having 
said  good-by  at  places  further  up  the  road.  As 
they  neared  Crumville,  the  heart  of  the  country 
boy  beat  quicker.  How  many  things  had  happened 
since  he  had  left  that  town  to  go  to  Oak  Hall ! 

"I  see  the  old  white  church  steeple  I"  cried  Ben, 
as  they  came  out  of  a  patch  of  timber.  "Looks 
natural,  doesn't  it?" 

"I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  away  a  year,  instead  of  a 
few  months,"  answered  Dave.  He  was  peering 
anxiously  out  of  the  window.  "Here  we  come  to 
the  station,  and,  yes,  there  is  Mr.  Wadsworth's 
automobile,  and  Mr.  Wadsworth  himself  and 
Jessie!" 

Soon  the  train  came  to  a  halt,  and  they  piled  out, 
dress-suit  cases  in  hand,  and  walked  over  to  the 
automobile. 

"How  do  you  do?"  cried  Jessie  Wadsworth,  a 
beautiful  miss  of  thirteen,  with  soft  eyes  and  golden 
curls.    "I  told  papa  you  would  be  on  this  train." 

"How  do  you  do?"  returned  Dave,  dropping  his 
suit  case  to  lift  his  cap  and  shake  hands.  "I  hope 
you  are  well." 

"Oh,  I  am,"  replied  the  miss,  shaking  back  her 
curls.  "How  do  you  do,  Ben?"  And  then  there 
was  more  handshaking. 


PREPARING  FOR  A  LONG  TRIP        141 

Both  of  the  boys  were  invited  to  enter  the  auto- 
mobile, and  did  so,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Ben  found 
himself  at  his  own  door.  Then  the  machine  was 
turned  toward  the  Wadsworth  mansion. 

"I  like  to  go  riding  with  papa,"  explained  Jessie. 
"I  never  go  out  with  our  man,  though.  Not  since 
— you  know !"  and  she  turned  a  pair  of  grateful 
eyes  upon  Dave  that  made  the  boy  color  up. 

"The  machine  appears  to  be  perfectly  safe,  since 
we  have  had  it  repaired,"  put  in  Mr.  Wadsworth. 
"But  our  man  is  better  with  the  horses." 

At  the  mansion  Mrs.  Wadsworth,  an  aristo- 
cratic but  motherly  lady,  came  out  to  greet  Dave, 
followed  by  Caspar  Potts,  whose  face  was  wreathed 
in  smiles.  All  told,  it  was  a  homecoming  that 
would  have  warmed  the  heart  of  any  lad,  and  it 
made  Dave  forget  completely  that  he  was  a  "poor- 
house  nobody." 

"You  must  tell  me  all  about  everything,"  said 
Jessie,  after  a  somewhat  elaborate  supper  had  been 
served.    "I  don't  want  to  miss  a  single  thing!" 

"Seems  to  me  you  are  cutting  out  a  big  job  for 
Dave,"  laughed  her  father. 

"Well,  I  guess  I  can  tell  all  she'll  wish  to  hear," 
answered  the  youth,  and  seated  at  one  end  of  a 
couch,  with  Jessie  at  the  other,  he  told  much  of  his 
life  at  Oak  Hall,  with  its  studies,  its  pranks,  and 
its  athletic  sports.  Dave  could  see  the  humorous 
side  of  a  thing  as  well  as  anybody,  and  some  stories 


142    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

he  told  made  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wadsworth  laugh  as 
well  as  Jessie.  On  his  trials  he  touched  but  lightly, 
for  he  could  not  dream  of  giving  his  little  lady 
friend  pain. 

On  the  following  day  Nat  Poole  came  home, 
and  Dave  met  the  aristocratic  youth  in  one  of  the 
stores  of  Crumville.  Poole  gave  him  a  glassy  stare 
and  did  not  speak.  A  few  minutes  later  Dave  met 
Ben. 

"Just  ran  into  Poole,"  said  the  latter,  "and  what 
do  you  think,  he  made  out  that  he  didn't  see  me." 

"He  was  in  Parsons'  store,  but  he  wouldn't  speak 
to  me,  either,"  answered  Dave.  "He  must  feel 
awfully  sore.     But  I  shan't  mind." 

"Nor  I,  Dave.  I  never  did  like  that  fellow,  and 
I  don't  like  his  father,  either.  By  the  way,  have 
you  heard  anything  more  about  the  farm  that  be- 
longs to  Professor  Potts?" 

"Yes,  and  I  am  glad,  and  so  is  he,  that  we  didn't 
let  Nat's  father  get  hold  of  it.  The  new  trolley 
company  is  going  to  put  a  line  past  it,  and  Mr. 
Wadsworth  says  it  will  be  quite  valuable  in  time." 

Two  days  passed,  and  then  Dave  got  long  letters 
from  Phil  and  Roger.  Senator  Morr  had  been  to 
see  Mr.  Lawrence  and  had  arranged  to  have  his 
son  go  on  the  long  trip  to  the  South  Seas.  Roger 
was  almost  wild  with  joy,  and  said  he  was  going  to 
prepare  for  the  trip  immediately. 

The  letter  from  Phil  told  Dave  that  the  start 


PREPARING  FOR  A  LONG  TRIP        143 

for  San  Francisco  was  to  be  made  on  the  following 
Monday  morning.  All  the  boys  were  to  meet  at 
the  Grand  Central  Depot,  in  New  York  City,  and 
take  the  limited  express  which  left  for  Chicago  at 
noon. 

"I  will  go  with  you  as  far  as  New  York,"  an- 
nounced Mr.  Wadsworth.  "I  wish  to  see  that  your 
journey  is  safely  begun." 

The  last  days  of  the  week  were  busy  ones  for 
Dave.  A  steamer  trunk  was  procured  for  him,  and 
into  this  was  packed  his  outfit,  including  a  semi- 
nautical  suit  that  fitted  him  to  perfection  and  gave 
him  quite  a  sailor  look. 

"I  suppose  you'll  be  a  regular  sailor  by  the  time 
you  come  back,"  said  Jessie. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  answered  Dave.  "I 
am  not  going  for  that  purpose,"  and  his  tone  grew 
serious. 

"Oh,  I  know  that,  Dave.  I  hope  you  find  what 
you  are  going  for.     But — but " 

"But  what,  Jessie?" 

"Oh,  I — I  don't  want  you  to  leave  us,  Dave.  If 
you  find  a  father,  or  an  uncle,  or  brother,  or  some- 
body like  that,  I  suppose  you  won't  stay  with  us 
any  more."  And  the  young  miss  pouted  engag- 
ingly. 

"I'll  certainly  not  care  to  leave  you,  Jessie,"  he 
answered,  gently.  "But  you  cannot  blame  me  for 
wanting  to  find  out  who  I  am,  I  am  sure." 


144    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Oh,  no,  Dave!" 

"I  don't  want  to  remain  a  nobody  and  have  folks 
shun  me  on  that  account." 

"Who  would  do  such  a  thing?"  she  asked,  her 
eyes  opening  widely. 

"Oh,  a  good  many  folks." 

"It  is  very  mean  of  them,"  came  from  the  little 
miss,  firmly.  "But,  never  mind,  Dave,  I'll  not  shun 
you,"  she  went  on,  catching  his  hand  and  squeezing 
it  as  hard  as  she  could.  "We're  going  to  be  just 
like  a  brother  and  sister  always,  aren't  we?" 

"If  you  say  so." 

"Don't  you  say  so,  Dave?" 

"Yes,  Jessie." 

"Then  that  is  settled,  and  we  won't  talk  about 
it  any  more.  Shun  you !  I  just  want  to  see  them 
do  it !  I  won't  speak  to  anybody  that  does  such  a 
thing!"  And  Jessie  looked  as  tragic  as  a  miss  of 
thirteen  can  look. 

Among  the  things  provided  by  thoughtful  Mr. 
Wadsworth  for  Dave  was  a  money  belt,  and  in 
this  was  placed  a  fair  amount  of  bankbills,  and  also 
a  letter  of  credit. 

"Mr.  Wadsworth,  you  are  more  than  kind!" 
cried  the  country  boy,  and"  something  like  tears 
stood  in  his  honest  eyes.  "How  can  I  ever  repay 
you?" 

"In  one  way  only,  Dave.  By  making  a  real 
man  of  yourself." 


PREPARING  FOR  A  LONG  TRIP        145 

"I  shall  do  my  best,  sir." 

"Then  that  is  all  I  ask." 

Billy  Dill  had  been  communicated  with,  and 
Caspar  Potts  went  after  the  tar  and  brought  him 
to  Crumville,  where  Oliver  Wadsworth  procured 
the  sailor  a  new  outfit.  Billy  Dill's  health  was  now 
restored  completely,  and  the  only  thing  he  suffered 
from  was  a  slight  loss  of  memory,  and  even  that 
defect  seemed  to  be  gradually  wearing  away. 

"I'll  be  the  happiest  tar  afloat  when  I  have  the 
rolling  ocean  under  me  once  more,"  said  he  to 
Dave.  "Cables  an'  capstans !  but  I  do  love  the  salt 
breeze!" 

"Well,  you'll  soon  get  enough  of  it,"  answered 
the  boy.     "We  have  a  long  trip  before  us." 


CHAPTER    XVII 

THE   TRIP   TO   THE    FAR   WEST 

"My  stars !  what  a  very  busy  place !" 

This  was  Dave's  exclamation  as  he  and  Oliver 
Wadsworth  hurried  along  one  of  the  streets  of 
New  York  City,  on  the  way  to  buy  some  small 
thing  which  had  been  forgotten.  They  had  arrived 
in  the  metropolis  an  hour  ahead  of  time,  and  the 
country  boy  had  stared  at  the  many  sights  in 
wonder. 

"It  is  one  of  the  busiest  cities  in  the  world," 
answered  the  manufacturer,  with  a  smile.  "A 
fortune  can  be  made  or  lost  here  in  no  time." 

"I  believe  you.  And  the  people !  Why,  there 
is  a  regular  crowd,  no  matter  where  you  turn." 

"Don't  you  think  you'd  like  the  city,  Dave?"   . 

"I  don't  know — perhaps  I  should,  after  I  got 
used  to  it." 

Roger  and  Phil  had  not  yet  come  in,  and  they 
had  left  Billy  Dill  at  the  depot  to  watch  out  for 
them.  On  returning  to  the  station,  Dave  and  Mr. 
Wadsworth  met  the  three  at  the  doors. 

"Here  we  are  again !"  cried  Roger,  shaking 
hands.    "And  not  very  much  time  to  spare,  either." 

146 


THE  TRIP  TO  THE  FAR  WEST        147 

"Is  the  train  in?"  asked  the  manufacturer. 

"Will  be  in  a  few  minutes,  so  the  gateman  said," 
answered  Phil. 

They  saw  to  it  that  their  trunks  were  properly 
cared  for,  and  a  short  while  after  the  cars  came  in 
and  they  climbed  aboard.  Seats  had  been  engaged 
beforehand,  so  there  was  no  trouble  on  that  score. 

"Now  remember  to  write  whenever  you  get  the 
chance,"  said  Oliver  Wadsworth  to  Dave.  "And 
if  you  run  short  of  funds,  don't  hesitate  to  let  me 
know." 

"I'll  remember,  and  thank  you  very  much,"  re- 
plied Dave,  and  then  the  long  train  moved  off, 
slowly  at  first,  and  then  at  a  good  rate  of  speed. 
Dave's  long  journey  to  solve  the  mystery  of  his 
identity  had  begun. 

"Say,  what  mountain  is  this  we're  goin'  under, 
anyway?"  came  presently  from  the  sailor.  "I 
noticed  it  when  I  came  to  New  York." 

"This  isn't  a  mountain,"  laughed  Roger.  "It 
is  New  York  City  itself.  We  are  under  the  streets." 

"Great  whales  !  Wonder  they  don't  knock  down 
the  wall  o'  somebuddy's  cellar!" 

It  was  not  long  before  they  came  out  into  the 
open,  and  then  both  Dave  and  the  sailor  looked  out 
of  the  windows  with  interest.  Phil  and  Roger 
were  more  used  to  traveling,  and  spent  the  time  in 
pointing  out  objects  of  interest  and  in  answering 
questions. 


148    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

The  fine  coach  was  a  revelation  to  Billy  Dill, 
who,  in  the  past,  had  traveled  exclusively  in  the 
ordinary  day  cars. 

"These  here  seats  are  better  nor  them  in  a  barber 
shop,"  he  observed.  "An'  thet  little  smoking-room 
is  the  handiest  I  ever  see.  But,  boys,  we  made  one 
big  mistake,"  he  added,  suddenly. 

"What's  that?"  asked  Phil. 

"Unless  we  tie  up  to  an  eatin'  house  on  the  way, 
we'll  be  starved.    Nobody  brung  any  grub  along." 

"Don't  worry  about  that,"  said  Roger,  with  a 
wink  at  the  others.  "I  think  I  can  scrape  up  some 
crackers  and  cheese  somewhere." 

"Well,  that's  better — although  I  allow  as  how 
we  could  have  brought  some  ham  sandwiches  as 
well  as  not." 

They  had  all  had  dinner,  so  nobody  was  hungry 
until  about  six  o'clock,  when  a  waiter  from  the 
dining-car  came  through  in  his  white  apron. 

"First  call  to  supper!" 

"Wot's  thet?"  queried  Billy  Dill. 

"Come  and  see,"  answered  Dave,  and  led  the 
way  to  the  dining-car.  When  the  old  sailor  saw 
the  tables,  and  saw  some  folks  eating  as  if  at  home, 
he  stared  in  amazement. 

"Well,  keelhaul  me,  if  this  don't  beat  the 
Dutch!"  he  ejaculated,  dropping  into  a  chair 
pointed  out  to  him.  "Reg'lar  hotel  dinin'-room  on 
wheels,  ain't  it?    Never  heard  o'  such  a  thing  in 


THE  TRIP  TO  THE  FAR  WEST 


149 


my  life,  never  I  Say,  Roger,  better  keep  that 
crackers  an'  cheese  out  o'  sight,  or  they'll  laugh  at 
ye!"  he  added,  with  a  chuckle. 

"You  never  saw  anything  like  this,  then?"  asked 
Dave. 

"Never.  I  allers  traveled  in  one  o'  them,  plain, 
every-day  kind  o'  trains,  an'  took  my  grub  along 
in  a  pasteboard  box." 

Though  amazed,  Billy  Dill  was  not  slow  about 
eating  what  was  set  before  him,  and  he  declared 
the  repast  the  finest  he  had  ever  tasted.  After  the 
meal  he  went  into  the  smoking  compartment  for 
a  smoke,  and  then  came  back  to  the  boys. 

"Feelin'  a  bit  sleepy,"  he  announced.  "I  sup- 
pose there  ain't  no  objections  to  my  going  to 
sleep." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Phil.  "Do  you  want  your 
berth  made  up  right  away?" 

"Humph!  that's  a  good  one!"  laughed  the  tar. 
"They  may  have  an  eatin'  room,  but  they  ain't  got 
no  bedrooms,  an'  I  know  it.  I'll  do  my  best  in  the 
seat,  though  I  allow  a  reg'lar  long  sofy  would  be 
better." 

"Just  you  wait  until  I  call  the  porter,"  said 
Roger,  and  touched  the  push-button.  "This  gen- 
tleman will  have  his  berth  made  up,"  he  went  on, 
as  the  porter  appeared. 

"Yes,  sah." 

"Make  it  up  with  real  sheets,  messmate,"  put  in 


150    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Billy  Dill,  thinking  it  was  a  joke.  "An'  you  might 
add  a  real  feather  piller,  while  ye  are  at  it." 

"Yes,  sah,"  answered  the  porter,  with  a  grin. 
"Please  step  to  another  seat,  sah." 

"Come,"  said  Dave,  and  arose  and  took  Billy 
Dill  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  sleeping-coach. 

The  old  tar  dropped  into  a  vacant  seat  and 
watched  the  porter  as  he  began  to  make  up  the 
berths.  From  a  smile  his  face  changed  to  a  look  of 
wonder,  and  when  he  saw  the  clean  sheets,  blankets, 
and  pillows  brought  forth  he  could  scarcely  con- 
trol himself. 

"Cables,  capstans,  an'  codfish  I"  he  murmured. 
"Thet  beats  the  dinin'-room,  don't  it?  Say,  maybe 
they  hev  got  a  ballroom  on  board,  an'  a  church,  an' 
a — a — farm,  an'  a  few  more  things." 

"Not  quite,"  answered  Roger,  with  a  laugh. 
"But  there  is  a  library,  if  you  want  any  books  to 
read." 

"Beats  all !  Why,  this  here  train  is  equipped  like 
a  regular  ship,  ain't  she?" 

"Almost,"  said  Dave.  "Here  are  two  berths; 
you  can  take  one  and  I'll  take  the  other." 

"Good  enough,  Dave.    Which  will  ye  have?" 

The  boy  said  he  preferred  the  lower  berth,  and 
Billy  Dill  swung  himself  up  in  true  sailor  fashion 
to  that  above. 

"Makes  me  think  o'  a  ship !"  he  declared.  "I 
know  I'll  sleep  like  a  rock!"     And  half  an  hour 


THE  TRIP  TO  THE  FAR  WEST        151 

later  he  was  in  the  land  of  dreams,  and  then  the 
boys  also  retired. 

Morning  found  them  well  on  their  way  to  Chi- 
cago, and  just  before  noon  they  rolled  into  the  great 
city  by  the  lakes.  Here  they  had  two  hours  to 
wait,  and  spent  the  time  in  getting  dinner  and  tak- 
ing a  short  ride  around  to  see  the  sights. 

"This  is  as  far  west  as  I  have  been,"  said  Roger. 
"The  rest  of  the  journey  will  be  new  to  me." 

"I  once  took  a  journey  to  Los  Angeles,"  said 
Phil.  "But  I  went  and  returned  by  the  southern 
route,  so  this  is  new  to  me  also." 

"I  have  never  traveled  anywhere — that  is,  since 
I  can  remember,"  put  in  Dave.  "But  I  am  sure  I 
am  going  to  like  it — that  is,  if  I  don't  get  seasick 
when  I  am  on  the  ocean." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  we'll  all  get  our  dose  of  that," 
responded  the  senator's  son. 

"Maybe  not,"  said  Billy  Dill.  "Some  gits  it,  an' 
some  don't." 

Nightfall  found  them  well  on  the  second  portion 
of  their  journey  to  San  Francisco.  There  was  an 
observation  car  on  the  train,  and  the  whole  party 
spent  hours  seated  on  camp-chairs,  viewing  scenery 
as  it  rushed  past  them.  Now  and  then,  for  a 
change,  they  would  read,  and  Billy  Dill  would 
smoke,  and  the  boys  often  talked  over  what  was 
before  them. 

"My  father  said  I  might  tell  you  the  object  of 


152    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

my  trip,"  said  Phil  to  his  chums.  "But  he  does  not 
want  anybody  else  to  know  of  it,  unless  it  becomes 
necessary  for  me  to  say  something  to  the  captain. 
The  supercargo  of  the  ship  is  a  man  named  Jasper 
Van  Blott.  He  has  worked  for  my  father  for 
some  years,  and  my  father  always  thought  him 
honest.  But  lately  things  have  happened  which 
have  caused  my  father  to  suspect  this  supercargo. 
He  sometimes  disposes  of  certain  portions  of  a 
cargo,  and  his  returns  are  not  what  they  should  be." 

"Then  you  are  to  act  as  a  sort  of  spy,"  said 
Roger. 

"I  am  to  watch  everything  he  does  without  let- 
ting him  know  exactly  what  I  am  doing.  And 
when  he  makes  a  deal  of  any  kind,  I  am  to  do  my 
best  to  ascertain  if  his  returns  are  correct.  If  I 
find  he  is  honest,  my  father  is  going  to  retain  him 
and  increase  his  salary;  if  he  is  dishonest,  my  father 
will  discharge  him,  and  possibly  prosecute  him." 

"Have  you  ever  met  this  Van  Blott?"  asked 
Dave. 

"Once,  when  he  called  on  my  father  two  years 
ago.  He  is  a  smooth  talker,  but  I  did  not  fancy  his 
general  style.  He  is  supposed  to  be  a  first-class 
business  man,  and  that  is  why  my  father  has  re- 
tained him.  I  do  not  believe  Captain  Marshall 
likes  him  much,  by  the  way  he  writes  to  father." 

"Have  you  ever  met  Captain  Marshall?" 

"Oh,  yes,  twice.     You'll  like  him,  I  know,  he 


THE  TRIP  TO  THE  FAR  WEST        153 

is  so  bluff  and  hearty.  My  father  has  known  him 
for  many  years,  and  he  thinks  the  captain  one  of 
the  best  skippers  afloat.  He  has  sailed  the  Pacific 
for  ten  years  and  never  suffered  a  serious  accident." 

"In  that  case,  we'll  be  pretty  safe  in  sailing  under 
him,"  observed  Roger.  "It  will  certainly  be  a 
long  trip — four  thousand  miles,  or  more !" 

"Do  you  know  anybody  else  on  the  ship?"  asked 
Dave. 

"I  do  not,  and  I  don't  know  much  about  the  ship 
herself,  excepting  that  she  is  named  the  Stormy 
Petrel.  Father  bought  her  about  a  year  ago.  She 
is  said  to  be  a  very  swift  bark,  and  yet  she  has  great 
carrying  capacity." 

"Will  you  please  explain  to  me  just  what  a  bark 
is?"  said  Roger.  "I  must  confess  I  am  rather 
dumb  on  nautical  matters." 

"A  bark  is  a  vessel  with  three  masts.  The  front 
mast,  or  foremast,  as  sailors  call  it,  and  the  main, 
or  middle,  mast  are  rigged  as  a  ship,  that  is,  with 
regular  yardarms  and  sails.  The  back  mast,  called 
the  mizzen  mast,  is  rigged  schooner  fashion,  that 
is,  with  a  swinging  boom." 

"That's  plain  enough.  Hurrah  for  the  Stormy 
Petrel!  Dave,  we'll  be  full-fledged  sailors  before 
we  know  it." 

"We  must  get  Billy  Dill  to  teach  us  a  thing  or 
two  before  we  go  aboard,"  said  the  country  boy. 
"Then  we  won't  appear  so  green." 


154    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

This  all  thought  good  advice,  and  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  journey  they  frequently  talked  nau- 
tical matters  over  with  the  old  tar.  Billy  Dill  had 
his  book  on  navigation  with  him,  and  also  a  gen- 
eral work  on  seamanship,  and  he  explained  to  them 
how  a  ship,  and  especially  a  bark,  was  constructed, 
and  taught  them  the  names  of  the  ropes  and  sails, 
and  many  other  things. 

"You'll  soon  get  the  swing  on  it,"  he  declared. 
"It  ain't  so  much  to  learn  fer  a  feller  as  is  bright 
an'  willin'  to  learn.  It's  only  the  blockheads  as 
can't  master  it.  But  I  allow  as  how  none  o'  you 
expect  to  work  afore  the  mast,  do  ye?" 

"Not  exactly,"  answered  Phil.  "But  there  is  no 
harm  in  learning  to  do  a  sailor's  work,  in  case  we 
are  ever  called  on  to  take  hold.  Somebody  might 
get  sick,  you  know." 

"Thet's  true,  lad — an'  I  can  tell  ye  one  thing: 
A  ship  in  a  storm  on  the  Pacific,  an'  short-handed, 
ain't  no  plaything  to  deal  with,"  concluded  the  old 
tar. 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

SAILING   OF   THE    "STORMY    PETREL" 

As  soon  as  the  party  arrived  at  San  Francisco, 
Phil  set  out  to  learn  if  the  Stormy  Petrel  was  in 
port.  This  was  easy,  for  the  firm  of  which  Mr. 
Lawrence  was  the  head  had  a  regular  shipping 
office  near  the  docks. 

"Yes,  she  is  in  and  almost  loaded,"  said  the 
clerk  at  the  office,  as  soon  as  he  learned  Phil's 
identity.     "I'll  take  you  down  to  her,  if  you  wish:" 

"Very  well,"  answered  the  youth,  and  soon  he 
and  his  chums  and  Billy  Dill  were  on  board  of  the 
bark.  A  gang  of  stevedores  were  on  hand,  bring- 
ing aboard  boxes,  crates,  and  barrels,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  crowd  were  Captain  Frank  Marshall 
and  Van  Blott,  the  supercargo,  both  directing 
operations. 

"Well!  well!"  ejaculated  the  captain,  on  catch- 
ing sight  of  Phil.  "Got  here  at  last,  eh?  Glad  to 
see  you.  So  these  are  the  young  gentlemen  to  go 
along?  Well,  I  reckon  you'll  find  the  trip  long 
enough.  Glad  to  know  you,  Porter,  and  the  same 
to  you,  Morr.  Yes,  we  are  mighty  busy  just  now. 
Got  a  little  of  the  cargo  in  the  wrong  way — tell  you 

155 


156    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

about  it  later" — the  last  words  to  Phil.  "I  shall  be 
glad  of  your  company.  Go  down  into  the  cabin 
and  make  yourselves  at  home,  and  I'll  be  with  you 
presently." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Phil.  "But  is  that  Mr. 
Van  Blott  over  yonder?" 

"It  is.  Want  to  see  him?  Trot  along,  if  you 
do."  And  the  captain  turned  to  his  work  once 
more. 

By  his  general  manner  Captain  Marshall  showed 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  come  into  contact  with  the 
supercargo  just  then,  and  Phil  walked  over  to  that 
personage  alone.  The  supercargo  was  a  tall,  thin 
individual  with  a  sallow  face  and  a  thin,  yellowish 
mustache. 

"This  is  Mr.  Van  Blott,  I  believe,"  said  Phil. 

"Yes,"  was  the  short  and  crusty  answer,  and  the 
supercargo  gave  the  boy  a  sharp  look. 

"I  am  Phil  Lawrence.  I  guess  you  do  not  re- 
member me?" 

"Oh !"  cried  the  supercargo,  and  his  manner 
changed  instantly.  "How  do  you  do?  I  didn't 
think  you'd  be  here  quite  so  soon.  I  hope  your 
father  is  well?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Then  you  got  his  letter,  Mr.  Van 
Blott?" 

"Yes,  this  morning.  I  haven't  read  it  very  care- 
fully yet.  He  said  something  about  you  helping 
me,  if  I  needed  help.     Well,  I  won't  bother  you 


SAILING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"     157 

much.  I  have  done  the  work  alone  In  the  past,  and 
I  can  do  it  now." 

"I  am  willing  to  do  all  I  can  to  assist  you," 
said  Phil,  politely. 

"I  don't  doubt  it.  But  I  won't  trouble  you — so 
you  and  your  friends  can  just  lie  back  and  enjoy 
yourselves,"  returned  Jasper  Van  Blott,  smoothly. 
"No  use  in  working,  when  you  are  on  a  vacation." 

"Oh,  I  shan't  call  it  work.  I  want  to  learn  a 
little  about  the  business.  Some  day,  you  know,  I 
am  to  go  into  my  father's  office." 

At  this  a  slight  frown  crossed  the  supercargo's 
face,  but  he  quickly  smiled  it  off.  "As  you  please," 
he  said.  "But  excuse  me  now,  I'm  very  busy.  We 
are  trying  to  get  ready  to  sail  to-morrow  by  noon, 
and  there  is  still  a  great  deal  to  do." 

In  some  way  Phil  felt  himself  dismissed,  and  he 
rejoined  Dave  and  Roger,  who  were  standing  by 
the  companionway.  All  went  below,  to  find  the 
cabin  of  the  Stormy  Petrel  deserted. 

"This  is  a  fine  cabin,"  remarked  Dave,  gazing 
around.     "It's  as  cozy  as  can  be." 

"Where  is  Billy  Dill?"  asked  Phil. 

"He  said  he'd  go  forward  and  await  orders." 

"Did  he  say  anything  about  the  vessel?" 

"Said  she  looked  to  be  a  first-class  sailer  and  in 
prime  condition,"  answered  the  senator's  son.  "He 
was  delighted  with  her." 

"What  do  you  think  of  the  captain?" 


158    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"I  think  I  shall  like  him,"  returned  Dave. 
"Roger  thinks  the  same." 

"I  don't  like  that  supercargo,"  went  on  Phil, 
lowering  his  voice.  "I  am  afraid  I  shall  have 
trouble  with  him  before  the  trip  is  over.  He 
doesn't  want  me  to  know  a  thing  about  what  he  is 
doing." 

A  little  later  Captain  Marshall  came  in  and 
showed  them  the  staterooms  they  were  to  occupy — 
one  fair-sized  one  for  Dave  and  Roger  and  a 
smaller  one  adjoining  for  Phil.  Then  he  intro- 
duced the  boys  to  his  first  mate,  Paul  Shepley,  and 
to  several  others.  When  he  got  Phil  by  himself 
he  asked  the  youth  if  the  supercargo  had  said  any- 
thing about  the  loading  of  the  bark. 

"Not  a  word,"  answered  Phil.  "Why  do  you 
ask  that  question?" 

"We  had  some  trouble  just  before  you  came  on 
board.  Mr.  Van  Blott  wanted  some  things  done 
one  way  and  I  wanted  them  another.  He  thinks 
he  can  run  things,  but  I  am  going  to  let  him  under- 
stand that  I  am  master  here.  I  tell  you  this,  be- 
cause I  want  you  to  understand  how  matters  are 
going." 

"From  what  you  say,  I  don't  think  you  like  Mr. 
Van  Blott,"  said  Phil.  "If  so,  let  me  say,  I  don't 
think  I  shall  like  him  myself." 

"Oh,  I  can  get  along  with  him,  if  he  will  mind 
his  own  business  and  do  what  is  right,"  answered 


SAILING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"     159 

the  captain  of  the  Stormy  Petrel.  "But  he  must  not 
attempt  to  dictate  to  me,  even  if  he  is  the  super- 
cargo." 

"Well,  I  trust  we  have  no  trouble,"  answered 
Phil,  with  a  sigh.  But  the  trouble,  he  felt,  was 
already  in  the  air. 

Late  that  afternoon  their  baggage  came  on 
board,  and  the  boys  set  to  work  to  establish  them- 
selves on  the  ship  which  was  to  be  their  home  for 
so  many  weeks  to  come.  In  the  meantime  Billy 
Dill  reported  to  the  captain,  and  was  assigned  to 
his  place  in  the  forecastle  as  an  extra  hand  at  full 
pay.  The  old  tar  was  pleased  mightily,  and  the 
smell  of  oakum  and  bilge  water  appeared  to  act  on 
him  like  a  tonic.  He  was  one  to  make  friends 
readily,  and  soon  established  himself  as  a  favorite 
among  the  foremast  hands. 

In  the  morning  the  boys  took  a  final  run  ashore, 
purchasing  a  few  things  they  thought  they  needed 
and  mailing  some  long  letters  home.  Coming  back 
to  the  bark,  they  caught  sight  of  the  supercargo 
coming,  with  another  man,  from  a  drinking  place 
on  a  corner. 

"Humph!  that  shows  he  drinks,"  muttered  Phil. 

"I  think  most  seafaring  men  do,"  answered 
Roger. 

"Captain  Marshall  does  not." 

They  had  to  pass  the  supercargo,  who  stood  on 
the  corner  with  his  back  to  them,  talking  to  the 


160    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

other  man.  Just  as  they  went  by,  they  heard  Van 
Blott  remark: 

"Don't  worry;  this  trip  is  going  to  pay  me  big, 
Bangor,  and  when  I  come  back  you  shall  have  all 
that  is  coming  to  you."  This  was  all  the  three  boys 
heard,  but  it  set  Phil  to  thinking. 

"I'd  like  to  know  how  this  trip  is  going  to  pay 
him  big,"  said  the  shipowner's  son.  "Father  says 
he  gets  his  regular  salary  and  a  small  commission." 

"Perhaps  he  has  some  private  deal  he  wishes  to 
put  through,"  suggested  Dave. 

"No;  by  his  agreement  he  has  no  right  to  do  any 
outside  work.  His  time  belongs  exclusively  to  the 
Stormy  Petrel  and  her  cargo." 

They  returned  to  the  bark,  and  quarter  of  an 
hour  later  the  supercargo  followed,  with  a  flushed 
face  that  showed  he  had  been  imbibing  more  liquor 
than  was  good  for  him. 

"Are  you  ready  to  sail?"  demanded  Captain 
Marshall,  striding  up. 

"All  ready,"  was  the  surly  response,  and  the 
supercargo  walked  down  to  his  stateroom  and  dis- 
appeared. 

Orders  were  given  to  cast  off,  and  in  a  very  few 
minutes  the  bark  was  on  her  way  from  San  Fran- 
cisco Bay  toward  the  Golden  Gate.  It  was  a  per- 
fect day,  and  by  nightfall  the  harbor  was  left 
behind  and  land  became  a  mere  speck  in  the  dis- 
tance. 


SAILING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"     161 

The  first  night  on  the  bark  passed  pleasantly 
enough  for  the  three  chums.  At  first  the  quarters 
on  the  vessel  appeared  small  to  them,  but  they  soon 
grew  accustomed  to  the  change.  All  slept  soundly 
and  they  were  out  on  deck  very  shortly  after 
sunrise. 

"Well,  how  do  you  like  life  on  Mother  Carey's 
Chicken?"  asked  Phil,  when  they  were  gazing  at 
the  rolling  ocean. 

"Mother  Carey's  Chicken?"  repeated  Dave, 
with  a  puzzled  look. 

"Oh,  I  know  what  he  means  !"  cried  Roger,  with 
a  laugh.  "A  stormy  petrel  is  a  bird  that  the  sailors 
call  a  Mother  Carey's  chicken." 

"What  a  name !  I  think  I  like  Stormy  Petrel 
better,"  observed  Dave.  "But,  I  say,  isn't  this  just 
grand !  A  fellow  can  open  his  lungs  and  drink  in 
ozone  by  the  barrel !" 

"And  hardly  a  cloud  in  the  sky,"  added  Roger. 
"If  this  is  any  criterion,  we'll  have  the  finest  kind 
of  a  trip." 

"Well,  boys,  I  see  you  are  up  on  time,"  came 
from  a  little  behind  them,  and  now  Captain  Mar- 
shall strode  up.  "Fine  sea  this,  and  a  fine  breeze, 
too." 

"How  long  will  this  nice  weather  last?"  asked 
Roger. 

"Humph  !"  The  captain  humped  his  shoulders. 
"No  man  alive  can  tell  that.    A  few  days,  at  least, 


1 62     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

maybe  a  week  or  more.  But,  sooner  or  later,  we'll 
pay  up  for  it.  The  finer  the  weather,  the  bigger 
the  storm  to  follow." 

"I  shouldn't  mind  an  ordinary  storm,"  observed 
Dave.     "But  I  don't  want  to  be  wrecked." 

"No  danger  of  that,  lad.  The  Stormy  Petrel 
can  outride  any  storm  likely  to  blow  in  these  parts. 
She  is  one  of  the  best  vessels  I  ever  sailed  in — a 
man  couldn't  ask  for  a  better." 

"How  much  of  a  crew  have  you,  Captain  Mar- 
shall?" asked  Phil. 

"I  have  sixteen  men,  all  told,  besides  the  tar  you 
brought  along."  The  brow  of  the  shipmaster 
wrinkled  slightly.  "They  are  all  pretty  fair  men, 
too,  excepting  four,  and  those  four  Mr.  Van  Blott 
brought  in." 

"What's  the  trouble  with  the  four?" 

"They  drink,  and  they  don't  mind  as  they 
should."  Captain  Marshall  turned  to  Phil.  "Af- 
ter breakfast,  I'd  like  to  talk  to  you  on  business  in 
the  cabin,"  he  added. 

This  was  a  hint  that  Dave  and  Roger  were  not 
desired,  and,  accordingly,  after  the  meal  they  left 
Phil  and  the  captain  alone. 

"I've  been  studying  your  father's  instructions  to 
me,"  said  Captain  Marshall  to  Phil.  "As  I  view 
it,  you  are  to  be  a  sort  of  assistant  to  Mr.  Van 
Blott." 

"If  he  will  allow  it." 


SAILING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"     163 

"And  if  he  won't?"  The  captain  gazed  at  Phil 
sharply. 

"Then,  perhaps,  I'll  do  something  on  my  own 
account." 

"Are  you  going  to  keep  your  eye  on  him?" 

"Yes,  but  you  need  not  tell  him  so." 

"Don't  worry — I  shan't  open  my  mouth,  Philip. 
I  am  glad  to  hear  of  this,  for,  I  tell  you  privately, 
Van  Blott  needs  watching.  He  is  a  sly  dog,  and  I 
am  satisfied  in  my  own  mind  that  he  has  something 
up  his  sleeve." 

"Do  you  know  a  man  named  Bangor  in  San 
Francisco?  He  was  with  Mr.  Van  Blott  just 
before  we  sailed." 

"Ah  !  I  thought  so !  Yes,  I  know  him,  and  his 
reputation  among  shippers  is  none  of  the  best.  He 
used  to  be  a  supercargo  for  the  Donaldson-Munroe 
Company,  but  they  discharged  him  for  some 
crooked  work.  What  were  he  and  Van  Blott 
doing?" 

Phil  told  of  what  he  had  overheard. 

"That  confirms  my  idea  exactly!"  cried  the  cap- 
tain of  the  Stormy  Petrel.  "There  is  something  in 
the  wind.  You  must  watch  out,  by  all  means,  and 
I'll  do  the  same.  This  man  must  not  be  allowed 
to  do  anything  wrong,  if  we  can  possibly  pre- 
vent it." 


CHAPTER    XIX 

DAYS   ON   THE   OCEAN 

The  weather  remained  fine  for  a  full  week,  and 
with  favoring  winds  the  Stormy  Petrel  bowled 
along  merrily  on  her  course.  The  ocean  rolled 
lazily  in  the  warm  sunshine,  a  few  birds  circled 
about  the  ship,  and  once  they  passed  a  steamer  com- 
ing from  the  Hawaiian  Islands,  and  a  schooner 
from  Manila,  and  that  was  all. 

"Shall  we  stop  at  Honolulu?"  asked  Roger,  of 
the  captain. 

"No.  I  thought  of  doing  so  at  first,  but  now  I 
shall  make  no  stops  until  we  get  to  Christmas 
Island,  and  from  there  we  will  go  direct  to  Cavasa 
and  then  to  Sobago.  What  we  do  after  that  will 
depend  largely  on  what  is  done  about  a  cargo." 

So  far  none  of  the  boys  had  experienced  any  sea- 
sickness, and  they  congratulated  themselves  on  their 
escape,  but  Billy  Dill  put  a  little  damper  on  their 
ardor. 

"This  ain't  no  weather  to  judge  by,"  was  his 
comment.  "Wait  till  we  get  some  cross-winds  and 
the  ships  starts  to  roll.  Maybe  then  ye  won't  be 
so  settled  in  the  stomach." 

164 


DAYS  ON  THE  OCEAN  165 

The  few  days  on  the  ocean  had  done  the  old  tar 
a  world  of  good.  His  eyes  were  brighter  and  he 
was  physically  m  the  best  of  health  once  more.  His 
mind,  too,  was  clearer,  and  one  day  he  announced  to 
Dave  that  he  had  something  to  tell. 

"I  ain't  quite  sure  as  I  have  the  exact  straight 
on  't,"  he  began.  "A  little  on  't  is  still  like  a 
dream.  But  I  know  enough  to  make  a  putty 
straight  story,"  and  then  he  told  his  tale. 

A  good  portion  of  it  was  not  unlike  the  story 
of  many  sailors.  When  very  young,  he  had  had  a 
strong  desire  to  go  to  sea,  and  at  his  first  oppor- 
tunity had  shipped  as  a  cabin  boy.  From  cabin  boy 
he  had  become  a  foremast  hand,  and  had  been  in 
such  service  more  years  than  he  could  count.  He 
had  visited  nearly  every  portion  of  the  globe,  and 
had  been  wrecked  twice,  once  off  the  coast  of 
Africa  and  once  while  trying  to  round  Cape  Horn. 

Three  years  before  had  found  him  at  Sydney, 
Australia,  looking  for  a  chance  to  ship.  While 
down  among  the  wharves,  he  had  discovered  a 
tramp  vessel,  the  Mary  Sacord,  bound  for  Cavasa 
and  other  islands  in  the  South  Seas,  and  had  signed 
articles  for  a  year's  cruise.  The  captain  proved 
to  be  a  brute,  and  there  was  fighting  on  the  vessel 
from  the  time  she  left  Sydney  until  Cavasa  was 
reached.  There,  at  the  main  seaport,  Billy  Dill 
went  ashore  and  refused  to  go  aboard  again. 

The  captain  of  the  Mary  Sacord  was  very  angry 


166    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

over  the  refusal  6f  the  seaman  to  continue  on  the 
trip,  and  threatened  Dill  with  imprisonment,  and 
even  had  the  old  tar  arrested.  But,  at  this  juncture, 
two  men  came  forward  and  aided  the  sailor  in  his 
trouble,  and,  as  a  consequence,  Billy  Dill  was  set 
free  and  the  vessel  went  on  her  way  without  him. 

One  of  the  men  who  had  helped  Billy  Dill  was 
Dunston  Porter  and  the  other  was  Samuel  Leming- 
ton.  They  were  both  Americans  and  fairly  well-to- 
do.  At  first,  they  did  not  tell  the  old  sailor  much 
about  their  business,  but  they  asked  him  if  he 
wished  to  work  for  them,  and  he  said  he  was  will- 
ing, and  they  offered  him  thirty  dollars  a  month 
and  all  his  expenses. 

The  two  Americans,  so  the  tar  discovered  later, 
were  after  a  treasure  of  precious  stones,  said  upon 
good  authority  to  have  been  hidden  years  before 
in  the  mountains  by  a  former  cannibal  king  of 
Cavasa  and  some  other  South  Sea  islands.  The 
three  journeyed  into  the  interior  of  the  island  and 
spent  months  in  looking  for  the  treasure,  but  with- 
out success.  Then  came  an  earthquake  and  the 
volcano  in  the  center  of  the  island  began  to  grow 
active,  and  all  three  had  to  flee  to  the  coast  in  order 
to  escape  destruction. 

It  was  on  this  treasure  hunt  that  Billy  Dill  heard, 
through  Dunston  Porter,  about  the  lost  child  that 
had  been  carried  off  by  a  nurse  who  was  not  men- 
tally sound,  although  usually  good-hearted.     Dun- 


DAYS  ON  THE  OCEAN  167 

ston  Porter  had  not  said  very  much  about  the  mat- 
ter, for  it  seemed  to  hurt  him  a  great  deal — so 
much,  in  fact,  that  the  old  sailor  did  not  think  it 
best  to  ask  for  the  particulars.  But  he  knew  one 
thing,  that,  try  his  best,  Dunston  Porter  could  not 
learn  what  had  become  of  the  woman  and  the  little 
one,  and  he  was  half  inclined  to  believe  that  both 
were  dead. 

"Well,  did  he  say  that  the  child  was  his  son?" 
asked  Dave,  with  deep  interest. 

"No,  it  was  some  relative  of  his,  I  think.  I  don't 
believe  Dunston  Porter  was  married." 

"When  you  came  back  to  the  coast,  what  did  this 
Mr.  Porter  do?" 

"He  and  Mr.  Lemington  stayed  in  the  town, 
trying  to  make  up  their  minds  as  to  what  they'd  do 
next.  I  got  a  chance  to  ship,  and,  as  they  didn't 
seem  to  want  me  any  more,  I  sailed  away,  and  then 
I  did  as  I've  told  you  before." 

This  was  practically  all  the  information  Billy 
Dill  could  give  concerning  Dunston  Porter  and  the 
missing  child,  although  he  told  much  more  con- 
cerning the  treasure  hunt,  and  of  several  fights  with 
the  natives  of  the  interior.  He  said  the  natives 
were  a  bad  lot,  and  he  wanted  no  more  to  do  with 
them  than  was  absolutely  necessary. 

"How  old  should  you  judge  this  Dunston  Porter 
to  be?"  asked  Dave. 

"Forty  to  forty-five  years  old,  my  lad." 


1/58    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Did  he  ever  tell  you  where  he  came  from?" 

"Not  exactly.  But  he  was  an  American,  and  he 
knew  a  good  bit  about  San  Francisco,  Chicago,  and 
New  York,  and  I  remember  he  once  told  about 
hunting  in  the  Maine  woods  and  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks." 

"He  didn't  say  a  word  about  coming  back  to  the 
United  States?" 

"Not  that  I  can  remember." 

With  this  information  Dave  had  to  be  content. 
The  story  had  been  a  strain  on  Billy  Dill,  and  af- 
terward he  complained  of  a  headache  and  of  feel- 
ing dizzy.  But  a  good  night's  rest  restored  him 
completely. 

The  sailor  was  at  all  times  delighted  to  instruct 
the  boys  in  the  art  of  seamanship,  and  under  his 
tutelage  they  learned  rapidly,  so  that  any  of  them 
could  go  aloft  and  make  or  take  in  sail  whenever 
required.  He  also  taught  them  how  to  make  knots 
of  various  kinds,  and  many  other  things  useful  on 
board  a  ship.  In  the  meantime  Captain  Marshall 
allowed  them  to  read  his  works  on  navigation,  and 
gave  them  a  few  lessons  in  steering,  and  in  the 
use  of  the  compass,  sextant,  and  other  nautical 
instruments. 

"We'll  be  full-fledged  sailors  before  this  voyage 
is  over,"  remarked  Roger  to  his  chums.  "I  de- 
clare, I  almost  feel  as  if  I  could  handle  a  small 
ship  already." 


DAYS  ON  THE  OCEAN  169 

"Maybe  you  could,  on  the  Leming  River,"  re- 
joined Phil.  "But  when  it  came  to  a  big  storm  on 
the  Pacific,  I  rather  believe  you'd  find  it  a  different 
story." 

So  far,  Phil  had  had  but  little  to  do  with  the 
supercargo,  but  now  he  asked  the  man  if  he  could 
look  over  the  books.  Jasper  Van  Blott  agreed,  but 
the  scowl  on  his  face  showed  plainly  that  the  move 
was  not  to  his  liking.  Phil  went  over  the  accounts 
at  his  leisure,  but  could  find  nothing  wrong  in  them. 
There  were  a  few  entries  that  looked  odd,  but  the 
supercargo  was  ready  with  explanations  concerning 
them. 

"Well,  have  you  found  anything  wrong?"  ques- 
tioned Dave,  after  Phil  had  spent  three  days  over 
the  books. 

"Nothing  much,  Dave,"  was  the  answer  from 
the  shipowner's  son. 

"The  supercargo  isn't  very  friendly,  I  notice." 

"Oh,  he  hates  it,  that  I  am  going  on  this  trip," 
answered  Phil. 

There  seemed  to  be  but  one  man  on  the  ship 
with  whom  the  supercargo  was  thoroughly  friendly, 
and  that  was  Paul  Shepley,  the  first  mate.  The 
pair  were  together  a  large  part  of  the  time,  and 
their  conversation  was  frequently  an  animated  one. 

"I  can't  get  it  out  of  my  head  that  those  two  are 
working  together  over  something,"  said  Dave. 
"Why,  they  are  as  thick  as  bees  in  a  sugar  barrel." 


170    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"I've  noticed  that,  too,"  came  from  Roger. 
"Perhaps  they  are  hatching  up  some  mischief." 

On  the  following  day  the  weather  became  more 
unsettled,  and  occasionally  the  clouds  showed  them- 
selves above  the  horizon.  Captain  Marshall  gave 
orders  to  his  mate  that  a  strict  watch  should  be  kept 
for  a  blow. 

"I  guess  we  are  in  for  it,  now  1"  cried  Dave,  that 
afternoon.  "It  is  much  rougher  than  it  has  yet 
been." 

"I  know  I  am  in  for  it,"  answered  Roger.  His 
face  was  white,  and  wore  a  troubled  look. 

"What's  the  matter,  seasick?" 

"I — I  fancy  so.  My  head  spins  like  a  top  and 
my  stomach  is  starting  to  do  the  same." 

"Better  go  below,  lad,"  said  Captain  Marshall, 
coming  up.  "It  won't  do  you  any  good  to  remain 
on  deck." 

Roger  shuffled  off  to  the  companionway,  and 
Dave  went  after  him.  The  senator's  son  was 
growing  worse  every  minute,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  Phil  announced  that  he  also  felt  sick.  Both 
went  to  their  staterooms,  and  Dave  did  what  he 
could  to  relieve  their  distress. 

"If  the  old  tub  would  only  stop  for  a  minute — 
just  one  minute!"  groaned  Roger. 

"That's  what  I  say,"  responded  Phil.  "Oh, 
dear!  I'd  give  a  hundred  dollars  to  be  on  shore 
again!" 


DAYS  ON  THE  OCEAN  171 

"I  think  I'd  make  it  a  thousand,"  groaned  the 
senator's  son.  "Why,  Dave,  don't  you  feel  it  at 
all?" 

"Well,  I  feel  a  little  strange,"  answered  the 
country  boy,  but  he  did  not  add  that  it  was  because 
he  had  to  stand  by  and  assist  his  friends.  He  made 
them  as  comfortable  as  possible,  and  then  rushed 
to  the  deck,  to  get  some  fresh  air  and  to  get  the 
matter  off  his  mind. 

A  storm  was  certainly  brewing,  and  Dave  won- 
dered how  soon  it  would  strike  the  Stormy  Petrel 
and  how  long  it  would  last.  The  black  clouds  were 
piling  up  in  the  sky  and  the  wind  came  in  unsteady 
puffs.  Below,  the  clear,  blue  water  had  turned  to 
a  dark  green. 

The  first  mate  was  in  charge  of  the  deck  and,  so 
far,  he  had  given  no  orders  to  shorten  sail.  Ever 
and  anon  a  sail  would  crack  in  the  wind  and  the 
bark  would  give  a  plunge  in  the  sea.  Dave  walked 
forward  to  where  Billy  Dill  stood  by  the  rail, 
watching  the  sky  anxiously. 

"This  looks  stormy,  doesn't  it?"  questioned  the 
youth. 

"Stormy?  Great  dogfish!  I  should  allow  as 
how  it  did,  lad.  We're  in  for  a  blow,  an'  a  big  one, 
too." 

"Then  isn't  it  about  time  to  take  in  sail?" 

"I  should  say  it  was." 

"Then  why  doesn't  the  mate  do  so?" 


172    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

At  this  question  the  old  tar  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"Reckon  he  wants  to  take  the  benefit  o'  all  the 
breeze  he  can,"  he  answered.  "But  it  ain't  the  best 
thing  to  do — not  to  my  way  o'  reasonin'.  If  he 
ain't  keerful,  we  may  lose  a  topmast,  or  more." 

"I  suppose  you  don't  dare  to  say  anything  to 
him?" 

"No.  He's  in  charge,  an'  thet's  all  there  is 
to  it." 

The  storm  continued  to  approach,  and  now 
several  of  the  sailors  looked  anxiously  at  the  first 
mate.  He  was  evidently  in  a  savage  mood,  and 
paid  no  attention  to  them. 

"Unless  he  does  sumthin'  soon,  we'll  lose  a  stick, 
sure,"  said  Billy  Dill  to  Dave,  in  a  low  tone.  "I 
never  saw  sech  a  contrary  mate  in  my  life !" 

"Perhaps  I  had  better  speak  to  Captain  Mar- 
shall," suggested  the  country  youth. 

"I  wish  ye  would — it  would  be  safer.  But  don't 
let  Shepley  know  it — or  he'll  be  as  mad  as  a  hornet 
at  ye,"  added  the  old  tar. 

Leaving  the  bow,  Dave  hurried  to  the  stern  and 
toward  the  companionway.  Here  he  almost  ran 
headlong  into  the  first  mate. 

"Hi !  look  where  you  are  going !"  ejaculated  the 
man,  roughly.     "Have  you  no  manners?" 

"Excuse  me,"  returned  Dave.  "Don't  you  think 
we  are  having  a  pretty  big  blow,  sir?"  he  added. 


DAYS  ON  THE  OCEAN  173 

"Oh,  this  won't  amount  to  much,"  grumbled 
Paul  Shepley.    "Nothing  to  get  scared  about." 

Dave  said  nothing  to  this.  He  hurried  below, 
and  a  moment  later  stood  in  front  of  Captain 
Marshall's  stateroom  door.  The  master  of  the 
Stormy  Petrel  was  taking  a  nap,  but  at  the  boy's 
knock  roused  up  instantly. 


CHAPTER    XX 

CAUGHT   IN   A    STORM 

"Who  is  there?" 

"Captain  Marshall,  can  I  speak  to  you  a 
moment?" 

"Oh,  so  it  is  you,  Porter !    What  do  you  want?" 

"There  seems  to  be  a  big  storm  coming  up,  and 
I  thought  I  had  better  tell  you  about  it." 

"Why — er — isn't  Mr.  Shepley  on  deck?" 

"Yes,  sir — but  I  thought  I  had  better  tell  you, 
anyway,"  went  on  Dave. 

"Mr.  Shepley  knows  what  to  do,"  answered  the 
captain,  rather  shortly.  He  did  not  fancy  having 
his  much-needed  nap  disturbed. 

"I  suppose  that  is  true,  sir — but  some  of  the 
sailors  are  getting  very  anxious.  I  don't  care  to 
mention  their  names,  but  they  think  some  sail  ought 
to  be  taken  in." 

The  master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel  arose  and 
stretched  himself.  Then  he  put  on  the  shoes  he 
had  dropped  on  lying  down,  and  came  out  into  the 
cabin.  He  gave  one  look  at  the  barometer  and  his 
sleepiness  vanished. 

"I  should  say  there  was  a  storm  coming!"  he 

174 


CAUGHT  IN  A  STORM  175 

exclaimed,  and  ran  for  the  companionway.  He 
was  soon  on  deck,  and  cast  an  anxious  eye  around. 

"Mr.  Shepley,  why  haven't  you  shortened  sail?" 
he  demanded,  in  a  low  but  sharp  voice. 

"I  didn't  think  it  necessary,  just  yet,"  was  the 
cool  response. 

"I  don't  agree  with  you,"  returned  the  master  of 
the  bark,  shortly,  and  then,  without  delay,  gave 
orders  to  take  in  fully  half  the  sails,  while  the 
crew  were  ordered  to  remain  in  readiness  to  stow 
away  still  more  of  the  canvas  at  a  moment's  notice. 
The  sailors,  for  the  most  part,  worked  with  a  will, 
although  there  were  several  laggards,  for  laziness 
among  certain  classes  of  men  is  not  confined  to  the 
land  alone. 

Captain  Marshall  was  angry,  and  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  let  the  first  mate  know  it. 

"There  is  no  sense  in  taking  too  many  risks,"  he 
remarked,  after  his  orders  had  been  obeyed.  "That 
storm  is  coming,  as  sure  as  fate." 

"I  wanted  to  make  as  much  headway  as  possible 
before  it  struck  us,"  grumbled  Shepley.  "We 
haven't  suffered  any." 

"No,  but  we  might  have  lost  a  topmast  or  a  top- 
sail. After  this,  you  will  please  be  a  little  more 
careful." 

There  was  no  time  to  argue  the  matter,  for  a 
little  later  the  storm  began  in  earnest.  All  of  the 
sails  were  taken  in  but  the  fore  sheet,  and  this  was 


176    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

reefed  down,  allowing  just  enough  canvas  to  fly  to 
keep  the  bark  before  the  wind.  The  breeze  was 
turning  to  half  a  gale,  and  from  a  distance  came 
the  rumble  of  thunder.  Then  the  sky  grew  still 
blacker  and  a  flash  of  lightning  illuminated  the 
angry  waters. 

Dave  had  followed  Captain  Marshall  on  deck, 
but  now  he  went  below  once  more,  to  learn  how 
Phil  and  Roger  were  faring.  He  found  them  both 
out  in  the  cabin,  having  come  from  their  state- 
rooms in  alarm. 

"Is  it  very  bad  outside?"  questioned  the  sena- 
tor's son. 

"Not  yet,  but  I  am  afraid  it  is  going  to  be,"  was 
Dave's  reply. 

"Phew,  that  certainly  means  business!"  burst 
out  Roger,  as  another  flash  of  lightning  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  heavy  peal  of  thunder.  "I  hope  the 
ship  weathers  it  all  right." 

"Captain  Marshall  is  on  deck,  and  he  knows 
what  he  is  doing,"  answered  Dave.  "I  am  glad  I 
called  him  up,"  he  added. 

"Oh,  so  you  called  him  up,  did  you?"  came  in  a 
voice  from  the  cabin  doorway,  and,  turning,  Dave 
beheld  Paul  Shepley  there.  The  mate  had  come 
below  to  get  his  raincoat. 

"Yes,  I  did,"  answered  the  country  boy,  boldly. 
Now  that  the  truth  was  out,  he  did  not  mean  to 
mince  matters. 


CAUGHT  IN  A  STORM  177 

"Thought  you  knew  more  about  running  a  ship 
than  I  did,  eh?" 

"I  thought  it  was  time  to  take  in  sail- — and  so  did 
the  captain." 

"Humph!  This  blow  isn't  going  to  kill  any- 
body, and  we  want  to  take  all  the  advantage  of  the 
wind  that  we  can.  We  are  expected  to  make  a 
quick  trip,  but  we  can't  do  it  if  we  are  going  to 
haul  down  sail  all  the  time." 

"I  am  sure  Captain  Marshall  will  do  what  is 
right,"  said  Phil. 

"Really?"  sneered  the  mate.  "I  didn't  ask  you 
to  put  in  your  oar." 

"I  know  you  didn't — but  my  father  owns  the 
vessel,  and  I  shall  stand  by  Captain  Marshall  and 
by  my  friend,  Dave  Porter." 

"Oh,  so  it's  something  of  a  plot  against  me, 
eh?"  snorted  the  mate,  more  angry  than  ever. 
"Well,  don't  let  it  go  too  far."  And  he  turned 
into  his  own  room,  banging  the  door  after  him. 
A  minute  later  he  came  out,  wearing  his  raincoat, 
and  hurried  out  on  deck  once  more. 

"He's  a  real  nice  man,  I  don't  think,"  was 
Roger's  comment.  "My,  how  he  would  lord  it 
over  us,  if  he  dared !" 

"He  is  certainly  sore,"  said  Phil.  "I  must  say, 
in  a  way,  he  and  the  supercargo  are  a  team.  When 
I  get  a  chance,  I  am  going  to  write  to  father  and  let 
him  know  exactly  the  sort  of  fellows  they  are." 


178    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

The  boys  felt  little  like  discussing  the  subject 
further  just  then,  for  the  storm  had  now  burst  over 
the  vessel  in  all  of  its  mad  fury.  The  wind  was 
whistling  through  the  rigging,  making  the  masts 
and  yards  creak  and  groan,  and  the  rain  came  down 
in  sheets,  sweeping  the  decks  by  the  bucketful.  It 
was  with  difficulty  that  the  Stormy  Petrel  could  be 
kept  before  the  wind.  The  waves  were  running  like 
so  many  big  hills,  with  the  bark  first  on  a  crest  and 
then  down  in  a  valley  between.  The  sky  was  almost 
black,  lit  up  occasionally  by  flashes  of  lightning 
that  were  blinding. 

"We'll  go  to  the  bottom,  sure !"  groaned  Roger, 
for  at  least  the  tenth  time.  "I'd  rather  be  at  Oak 
Hall  any  day  than  in  such  a  storm  as  this."  He  was 
still  seasick,  but  the  storm  made  him  forget  the 
ailment  for  the  time  being;  and  what  was  true  of 
the  senator's  son  in  this  regard  was  likewise  true 
of  Phil. 

"I  think  I'll  take  another  look  on  deck,"  said 
Dave,  as  the  bark  gave  a  pitch  that  sent  them  all 
against  a  partition. 

"Take  care  that  you  don't  fall  overboard,"  re- 
turned Phil. 

"I'll  be  on  my  guard,  never  fear." 

Putting  on  his  raincoat,  the  country  boy  made 
his  way  cautiously  up  the  companionway.  The 
moment  he  stuck  his  head  into  the  open  he  realized 
that  it  was  blowing  "great  guns,"  and  more.    The 


Another  flash  lit  up  the  scene. — Page  179. 


CAUGHT  IN  A  STORM  179 

rain  dashed  violently  into  his  face,  drenching  him 
completely. 

"This  is  no  place  for  you,  lad!"  bellowed  Cap- 
tain Marshall,  trying  to  make  himself  heard  above 
the  wind.     "Better  go  below  again." 

"I'll  be  careful,"  pleaded  Dave.  "I  love  to 
watch  a  storm — I  always  did,  when  I  was  on  the 
farm.  I  never  thought  of  hiding,  no  matter  how 
hard  it  thundered  or  lightened." 

The  master  of  the  bark  gazed  for  a  second  at 
him  in  admiration. 

"Well,  I  was  the  same,"  he  said.  "But  be  care- 
ful, and  don't  go  close  to  the  rail." 

Dave  remained  in  the  vicinity  of  the  cabin. 
When  another  flash  lit  up  the  scene,  he  saw  Billy 
Dill  near  the  bow,  stowing  away  some  rope  in  the 
most  unconcerned  fashion  possible.  The  old  tar 
was  in  his  element,  and  said  afterward  that  the 
storm  had  done  him  more  good  than  gallons  of 
medicine  would  have  accomplished.  "Saterated  me 
with  salt  brine,  an'  thet's  wot  I  needed,"  were  his 
words. 

"How  do  you  like  it,  now?"  asked  Captain  Mar- 
shall, coming  up  a  little  later,  while  there  was  some- 
thing of  a  lull. 

"I  don't  mind  it,"  answered  Dave,  smiling. 
"It's  a  little  excitement,  and  that  is  what  I  like." 

"I  am  thankful  that  you  called  me  when  you 
did." 


180    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"I  did  what  I  thought  was  best,  sir.  But  I 
reckon  it  has  put  me  into  a  hole  with  your  first 
mate." 

"Why,  did  you  tell  him  anything?" 

"No,  but  he  overheard  me  telling  the  other  boys 
that  I  had  called  you.  He  didn't  say  much,  but 
he  showed  that  he  was  angry." 

"Humph!  Well,  don't  you  mind,  Porter.  It 
was  the  right  thing  to  do.  Shepley  is  a  good  sailor, 
but  once  in  a  while  he  takes  risks  that  I  don't  like. 
If  he  troubles  you  about  this,  let  me  know,  do  you 
hear?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  I  am  willing  to  fight  my  own 
battles." 

"I  don't  doubt  it,  for  you  are  gritty,  I  can  see 
that.     Nevertheless,  you  let  me  know." 

"How  long  do  you  suppose  this  storm  will  last?" 

"There  is  no  telling,  perhaps  twenty-four  hours 
and  maybe  two  or  three  days.  We  are  paying  up 
for  that  nice  weather  we  had,"  concluded  the 
captain. 

Finding  he  could  do  nothing  on  deck,  and  that 
he  was  getting  wet  through,  Dave  went  below  and 
to  his  stateroom.  He  found  Roger  and  Phil  lying 
down  as  before,  and  as  miserable  as  ever.  A  little 
later  supper  was  announced,  but  Dave  had  to  eat 
alone,  for  neither  the  captain  nor  the  mate  came  to 
join  in  the  repast.  It  was  a  meal  under  difficulties, 
and  Dave  did  not  remain  at  the  table  long.     He 


CAUGHT  IN  A  STORM  181 

asked  Roger  and  Phil  if  they  wanted  anything,  but 
both  declined. 

"Why,  the  very  idea  of  anything  to  eat  makes 
me  sicker  than  ever,"  declared  the  senator's  son. 

The  storm  did  not  abate  during  the  evening,  and 
the  three  boys  spent  rather  a  dismal  time  of  it  in 
the  cabin  and  the  staterooms.  As  night  came  on, 
none  of  them  felt  like  going  to  bed,  although  ad- 
vised to  do  so  by  Captain  Marshall. 

"We  have  seen  the  worst  of  the  blow,"  said  the 
master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel,  coming  down  about 
ten  o'clock. 

It  was  not  until  morning  that  Dave  fell  into  a 
troubled  doze,  from  which  he  did  not  awaken  until 
Roger  shook  him. 

"Hello!  I  went  to  sleep,  after  all!"  cried  the 
country  boy.     "What  time  is  it?" 

"About  seven  o'clock,  Dave.  There  is  some- 
thing unusual  going  on  on  deck,"  continued  the 
senator's  son. 

"What  is  it?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  am  going  up  to  see,  and  so 
is  Phil." 

The  three  were  soon  ready,  and  crawled  up  the 
companionway  and  out  on  the  rain-drenched  and 
slippery  deck. 

"We  must  man  the  pumps,"  they  heard  Captain 
Marshall  cry.  "And,  Scader,  report  as  soon  as 
you  can." 


182     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Aye,  aye,  sir!"  came  from  Scader,  who  was 
the  ship's  carpenter.  "But  I  am  afraid,  sir,  it's  a 
bad  leak  to  get  at,"  he  added. 

"Have  we  sprung  a  leak?"  cried  Phil. 

"We  have,"  answered  the  captain.  His  face 
wore  a  serious  look,  and  the  boys  saw  that  he  was 
much  troubled. 

The  sailors  were  at  the  pumps,  and  worked  away 
with  a  will.  Roger  and  Phil  still  felt  too  weak  to 
take  part,  but  Dave  leaped  to  Billy  Dill's  side  and 
worked  as  hard  as  any  of  the  foremast  hands. 
Leaving  the  ship  in  charge  of  the  first  mate,  Cap- 
tain Marshall  went  below,  to  learn  what  the  ship's 
carpenter  might  have  to  say  about  the  condition  of 
affairs. 

"We  are  bringing  up  a  good  deal  of  water,  are 
we  not?"  asked  Dave  of  Billy  Dill. 

"You  have  it  right,  lad;  more  water  nor  I  care 
to  see,"  answered  the  old  tar. 

"That  means  the  leak  is  a  bad  one,  eh?" 

"Yes,  some  of  the  ship's  seams  must  be  wide 
open." 

"Will  it  sink  us?" 

"I  can't  tell  anything  more  about  that  than  you, 
Dave.  We  must  hope  for  the  best,"  replied  Billy 
Dill. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

CAVASA    ISLAND   AT    LAST 

Phil  and  Roger  heard  the  conversation  between 
Dave  and  the  old  sailor,  and  it  worried  them  so 
much  that  they  hurried  below,  to  learn  what  might 
be  going  on. 

"We  must  shift  that  part  of  the  cargo  first," 
came  from  the  ship's  carpenter.  "Then,  I  think,  I 
can  do  something,  but  I  am  not  sure." 

Captain  Marshall  at  once  ordered  the  cargo 
shifted  as  desired.  This  did  not  please  the  super- 
cargo, but  the  master  of  the  vessel  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  Van  Blott's  objections. 

"It  is  a  question  of  keeping  the  ship  afloat,  Mr. 
Van  Blott,"  said  he,  coldly.  "If  necessary,  I'll 
have  the  whole  cargo  heaved  overboard." 

"But,  sir "  commenced  the  supercargo. 

"I  can't  talk  about  it  now.  My  duty  is  to  save 
the  ship.  Do  you  want  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean?"  And  Captain  Marshall  spoke  in  such  a 
decided  way  that  Jasper  Van  Blott  sneaked  off  and 
said  no  more  for  the  time  being. 

A  portion  of  the  crew  came  below,  and  not 
without  difficulty  a  number  of  heavy  boxes  and 

183 


1 84    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

casks  were  shifted.  Then  the  ship's  carpenter  and 
an  assistant  went  to  work  to  tighten  up  the  seams, 
through  which  the  water  of  the  ocean  was  spurting 
furiously.  It  was  a  difficult  and  dangerous  task, 
and  it  lasted  the  best  part  of  three  hours.  But,  at 
last,  the  workers  got  the  better  of  the  elements,  and 
then  the  water  went  down  steadily  in  the  ship's  well, 
as  the  men  at  the  pumps  continued  their  labors. 

"Will  the  ship  pull  through?"  asked  Phil,  of  the 
captain. 

"Yes,  my  lad,  I  think  we  are  safe  now — unless 
the  blow  makes  us  open  some  more  seams." 

After  the  repairs  below  had  been  made  and  the 
alarm  had  passed,  Captain  Marshall  called  the 
first  mate  to  his  side. 

"I  thought  you  said  those  seams  were  all  right 
when  we  were  at  the  dock  at  San  Francisco,"  he 
began. 

"They  looked  all  right,"  mumbled  Paul  Shepley. 

"You  couldn't  have  examined  them  very 
closely." 

"I  did." 

"Humph !  After  this  I  had  better  look  to  things 
myself,"  was  the  captain's  comment,  and  he  moved 
away. 

A  little  later  the  supercargo  and  the  first  mate 
met  in  the  waist.  The  storm  was  now  dying  down 
rapidly,  and  it  looked  as  if  the  sun  would  soon 
break  through  the  clouds. 


CAVASA  ISLAND  AT  LAST  185 

"Well,  I  see  you  had  another  run-in  with  the  old 
man,"  remarked  Van  Blott. 

"So  did  you." 

"You  mean  about  the  cargo?" 

"Of  course." 

"Well,  I  didn't  want  him  to  nose  around  too 
much,"  and  the  supercargo  grinned. 

"Afraid  he  might  run  across  some  of  that  pri- 
vate stuff?" 

"Hush !  Somebody  might  hear  you,  Shepley. 
What  was  your  row  about?" 

"He  laid  the  opening  of  the  seams  on  my  shoul- 
ders— said  I  didn't  inspect  things  properly  at  San 
Francisco." 

"He  seems  to  be  getting  harder  than  ever 
on   us." 

"That's  it,  and  I  am  done,  after  this  trip," 
growled  the  first  mate. 

"So  am  I — if  I  can  make  my  little  pile." 

"That's  what  I  mean.  Van  Blott,  we  must  do 
it,  too." 

"I  expect  to,  but  it  isn't  going  to  be  so  easy  as 
we  thought.  The  owner  of  the  ship  has  sent  his 
son  to  watch  me,  and  he  and  those  other  lads  are 
rather  clever." 

"Pooh!  you  are  not  afraid  of  those  boys,  are 
you?" 

"It  isn't  that.  I'm  afraid  they'll  discover  some- 
thing and  take  the  news  to  the  old  man." 


186    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Here  the  talk  had  to  come  to  an  end,  and  the 
two  men  separated,  promising  to  meet  in  the  even- 
ing. That  they  had  some  scheme  they  wished  to 
work,  there  could  not  be  the  slightest  doubt. 

By  nightfall  the  storm  was  at  an  end,  and  the 
sun  set  in  a  perfect  blaze  of  glory.  Of  the  gale 
only  a  stiff  breeze  remained,  and  Captain  Marshall 
lost  no  time  in  setting  his  sails  as  before.  All  the 
loose  seams  had  been  mended  and  the  Stormy  Petrel 
now  took  in  no  more  water  than  was  usual  with  her, 
and  is  usual  with  ordinary  sea-going  craft. 

"I  am  glad  that  is  over,"  remarked  Phil,  the 
next  day,  after  a  fair  night's  sleep. 

"So  am  I,  and  I  never  want  to  experience  an- 
other such  storm,"  came  from  Roger. 

"How  do  you  both  feel?"  asked  Dave. 

"My  seasickness  is  gone,  thank  goodness,"  an- 
swered Phil. 

"Ditto  here,"  said  the  senator's  son.  "Dave, 
you  are  a  lucky  dog,  to  keep  so  well,"  he  added,  a 
bit  enviously. 

"Perhaps  it  will  be  my  turn  next  time,  Roger." 

After  that  the  Stormy  Petrel  continued  on  her 
course  for  many  days  with  but  little  out  of  the  ordi- 
nary happening.  Once  or  twice  the  boys  had  some 
sharp  words  with  the  first  mate,  and  Phil  had  a 
"tiff"  with  the  supercargo,  but  nothing  like  an  open 
quarrel  ensued.  Yet  the  flames  were  smoldering, 
ready  to  break  out  at  the  first  opportunity. 


CAVASA  ISLAND  AT  LAST  187 

"Those  two  men  hate  us  worse  than  poison," 
said  Dave,  one  day.     "I  can  see  it  plainly." 

"That  supercargo  has  it  in  for  me,"  replied  Phil. 
"I  wish  I  could  let  my  father  know  just  how  he  is 
acting.     He'd  soon  lose  his  situation." 

They  were  now  near  the  equator,  and  the 
weather  was  very  warm,  and  would  have  been 
unendurably  hot,  had  it  not  been  for  the  constant 
breeze  that  was  blowing.  Nobody  cared  to  do 
much  in  such  an  atmosphere,  and  the  three  boys 
were  content  to  sit  around  or  loll  in  hammocks 
suspended  in  shady  portions  of  the  deck.  The 
broiling  sun  started  the  tar  from  the  seams,  and 
the  odor  therefrom  was  almost  overpowering. 

"I  wish  we  had  an  ice-making  machine  on 
board,"  said  Roger,  as  he  fanned  himself.  They 
had  taken  ice  along,  but  the  supply  was  running 
low,  and  he  could  not  get  quite  as  much  as  he 
desired. 

"Never  mind,  we'll  have  a  run  ashore  soon," 
said  Dave.    "That  will  be  something  of  a  change." 

He  had  in  mind  the  stop  at  Christmas  Island,  a 
small  body  of  land  belonging  to  England  and  lying 
in  the  Pacific,  close  to  the  equator.  The  island  was 
sighted  the  next  day,  and  they  made  a  landing  and 
roamed  around  for  three  hours,  while  some  fresh 
water  and  other  things  were  taken  on  board.  Then, 
by  nightfall,  the  bow  of  the  Stormy  Petrel  was 
once  more  headed  for  the  southwestward. 


188    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Now  we  are  in  southern  seas,"  cried  Dave,  one 
day,  after  the  equator  had  been  left  behind.  "I 
suppose  we'll  begin  to  sight  some  of  the  numerous 
islands  before  long." 

"I  shan't  mind  sighting  the  islands,  but  I  don't 
want  to  run  on  some  hidden  reef,"  returned  Roger. 
"The  charts  show  a  great  number  of  reefs  in  this 
portion  of  the  ocean." 

Once  more  the  days  slipped  by.  It  was  fearfully 
hot,  and  the  boys  did  not  move,  excepting  when  it 
was  absolutely  necessary.  Occasionally  they  would 
sit  at  the  bow  and  Billy  Dill  would  tell  them  stories 
of  the  sea  and  of  sights  in  foreign  lands.  He  now 
said  that  he  felt  as  of  old. 

"I  was  born  for  the  sea,"  he  observed.  "It  was 
a  mistake  for  me  to  travel  all  the  way  across  land 
to  Oakdale,  an'  I  reckon  I  got  punished  fer  it." 

"I  am  sorry  you  suffered,  but  I  am  glad  I  had 
the  chance  to  meet  you,"  answered  Dave.  "It  may 
mean  a  great  deal  to  me,  you  know." 

"Thet's  true,  Dave.  But  take  my  advice  an' 
don't  depend  upon  it  too  much.  I'd  hate  awfully 
to  see  ye  disapp'inted." 

"Yes — but  I  wish  we  were  at  Cavasa  Island," 
said  the  country  boy,  wistfully. 

The  nearer  the  ship  drew  to  the  island  men- 
tioned, the  more  anxious  did  he  become,  although 
he  did  his  best  to  conceal  his  feelings.  But  Phil 
and  Roger  understood. 


CAVASA  ISLAND  AT  LAST  189 

"I  sincerely  hope  Dave  isn't  disappointed,"  said 
the  senator's  son,  when  he  and  Phil  chanced  to  be 
alone.  "Think  of  coming  such  a  distance  as  this 
on  a  wild-goose  chase!" 

"Well,  it  was  the  only  thing  to  do,"  answered 
the  son  of  the  bark  owner.  "You  and  I  would 
have  done  the  same." 

"I  don't  doubt  it.  But,  look  at  it  from  every 
point  of  view,  it  is  an  odd  situation.  I  only  hope 
this  Dunston  Porter  is  still  at  Cavasa  Island,  or  in 
that  vicinity." 

At  last  came  the  day  when  Captain  Marshall 
called  the  boys  to  him  and  said  they  might  sight 
Cavasa  Island  inside  of  the  next  twenty-four  hours. 

"You'll  know  the  island  at  a  glance,"  said  he. 
"Approaching  it  from  this  side,  it  looks  exactly 
like  a  long  loaf  of  bread  with  a  hump  in  the  middle. 
The  hump  is  the  old  volcano.  The  town  at  which 
we  are  to  stop  is  located  at  the  western  extremity 
of  the  island.  There  is  where  the  real  shipping  is 
done.  There  is  a  town  at  the  eastern  end,  but  the 
harbor  is  poor,  and  most  of  the  inhabitants  are 
natives." 

"And  what  of  the  people  where  we  are  to  stop?" 
asked  Dave. 

"About  one-half  are  natives  and  the  others  a 
mixture  of  Americans  and  Europeans.  The  harbor 
there  is  a  very  good  one  indeed,  and  that  is  why  it 
is  so  popular." 


190    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

As  they  neared  Cavasa  Island,  both  the  super- 
cargo and  the  first  mate  appeared  to  grow  more 
than  ordinarily  anxious,  and  talked  together  by  the 
half-hour.    Dave  noticed  this  and  so  did  the  others. 

"They  have  something  in  mind,"  said  the  country 
boy  to  Phil.  "You'll  surely  have  to  be  on  guard 
when  the  cargo  for  Tolao  is  taken  ashore." 

The  next  day  the  boys  kept  on  the  lookout,  hav- 
ing borrowed  Captain  Marshall's  best  glass. 
About  noon  Roger  uttered  a  loud  cry: 

"I  see  something!     It  must  be  the  island!" 

"Let  me  look!"  exclaimed  Dave,  and  took  the 
glass.  "Yes,  it  is  Cavasa  Island!"  he  went  on, 
"for  it  looks  exactly  as  the  captain  said." 

Inside  of  an  hour  they  could  see  Cavasa  Island 
quite  plainly,  and  by  nightfall  they  were  ready  to 
enter  the  harbor.  But  this  was  not  to  be  accom- 
plished in  the  dark,  and  so  they  had  to  remain  out- 
side until  daybreak,  impatient  as  Dave  was  to  get 
ashore. 

"What  an  odd  collection  of  ships!"  said  Phil,  as 
the  Stormy  Petrel  made  her  way  into  the  harbor. 
"They  must  have  come  from  all  parts  of  the 
world!"    And  this  remark  was  largely  true. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  Dave  and  Billy  Dill 
should  go  ashore  at  the  first  opportunity,  and  Roger 
was  to  go  with  them. 

"I  am  sorry  I  can't  go,"  said  Phil,  to  Dave. 
"But,  you  understand  how  it  is,"  and  he  jerked  his 


CAVASA  ISLAND  AT  LAST  19 1 

thumb  in  the  direction  of  the  supercargo,  who  was 
writing  in  one  of  his  books. 

"Yes,  I  understand,  Phil,"  answered  Dave.  "I 
hope  you  don't  have  any  trouble." 

The  shipping  of  Tolao  was  very  much  huddled 
together,  and  the  boys  had  to  depend  upon  Billy 
Dill  to  pilot  them  to  the  main  thoroughfare  of  the 
town.  The  old  sailor  declared  that  the  place  had 
changed  but  little  since  his  last  visit,  and  said  he 
would  take  them  directly  to  the  hotel  at  which 
Dunston  Porter  had  been  in  the  habit  of  stopping. 

"All  right,"  said  Dave.  "You  can't  get  there 
any  too  quick  for  me,"  and  they  walked  on,  with 
the  heart  of  the  country  boy  beating  as  it  had  sel- 
dom beat  before.  To  him,  his  whole  future  seemed 
to  rest  upon  what  he  might  learn  in  the  next  few 
hours. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

ABOUT   SOME   MISSING   MEN 

The  hotel  proved  to  be  a  one-story  building  of 
Spanish  architecture,  with  numerous  small  windows 
and  a  rather  low  door.  It  was  presided  over  by  a 
round-faced  Englishman,  who  stared  at  Billy  Dill 
curiously  when  the  old  tar  presented  himself. 

"Do  you  remember  me,  Mr.  Chadsey?"  asked 
the  sailor. 

"I  do,"  was  the  answer.  "You  were  here  some 
years  ago.    But  I  cannot  recall  your  name." 

"Billy  Dill." 

"Oh,  yes,  yes;  you  were  with  Mr.  Porter  and 
Mr.  Lemington,"  returned  the  hotel-keeper. 

"That's  it.    I  am  looking  for  Mr.  Porter  now." 

"Sorry,  but  he  isn't  here." 

"Isn't  here?"  cried  Dave,  and  his  heart  sank. 
"Isn't  he  in  town  at  all?" 

"No,  he  left  the  island  a  couple  of  months  ago." 

"And  where  did  he  go  to?" 

"I  don't  know.  He  said  something  about  going 
to  Sobago  Island  and  something  about  going  to 
Australia,  but  where  he  really  did  go  to,  I  have 
not  learned." 

192 


ABOUT  SOME  MISSING  MEN  193 

"This  young  man  is  very  much  interested  in 
meeting  Mr.  Porter,"  explained  Billy  Dill.  "His 
name  is  Porter,  too,  and  I  reckon  they  are  related. 
Have  you  any  idea  where  we  can  find  out  where 
Dunston  Porter  went?" 

"Might  find  out  at  the  shipping  offices." 

"Why,  of  course!"  exclaimed  Dave.  "Let  us 
go  to  the  different  offices  at  once." 

Billy  Dill  was  willing,  and  without  loss  of  time 
led  the  way  to  the  street  upon  which  the  majority 
of  the  shipping  of  Cavasa  Island  was  booked.  The 
offices  were  mostly  small  and  rather  dirty,  and 
around  them  hung  sailors  and  other  men,  of  various 
nationalities,  and  some  of  them  far  from  preposess- 
ing  in  their  general  appearance. 

They  visited  two  offices  without  success,  and 
then  came  to  a  place  located  on  a  corner,  with  doors 
on  both  streets. 

"Hello!"  cried  Roger.  "There  is  Mr.  Van 
Blott  just  ahead  of  us!  Is  this  the  shipping  firm 
with  which  Mr.  Lawrence  does  business?" 

"I  don't  think  it  is,"  answered  Billy  Dill. 

"Then  what  is  he  doing  here?" 

"Must  have  a  little  business  of  his  own,"  said 
Dave.  "But  I  don't  care.  Come  along."  Just 
then  he  was  thinking  only  of  his  personal  affairs. 

They  entered  the  office,  which  reeked  of  tobacco 
smoke  and  the  smell  of  rum.  In  the  rear  was 
another  office,  and  they  were  just  in  time  to  see 


194    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

the  supercargo  go  into  this,  shutting  a  partition 
door  behind  him. 

Looking  around,  Dave  saw  a  clerk  at  a  corner 
desk  looking  over  some  papers  with  an  elderly- 
German. 

"I  will  be  at  liberty  in  a  few  minutes,"  said  the 
clerk,  in  broken  English.  "Please  to  take  seats," 
and  he  pointed  to  a  couple  of  low  benches  set 
against  the  wall  and  the  partition. 

Billy  Dill  sat  down  on  the  bench  along  the  wall 
and  Dave  and  Roger  upon  that  next  to  the  parti- 
tion, which  was  not  over  seven  feet  in  height. 
Save  for  the  rattling  of  the  papers  at  the  corner 
desk  the  office  was  very  quiet,  and  the  boys  readily 
heard  the  talk  going  on  behind  the  partition. 

"So  you  really  have  some  goots  on  board?" 
came  in  a  somewhat  German  voice.  "I  vos  afraid 
you  vould  not  bring  any." 

"Didn't  I  say  I'd  bring  them,  Baumann?"  re- 
turned Jasper  Van  Blott.  "I've  got  them,  and  the 
only  question  is,  how  am  I  to  get  them  here,  and 
when  are  you  going  to  pay  me?" 

"I  pay  so  soon  as  de  goots  is  here,"  said  the 
German  shipping  agent.  "I  not  pay  a  dollar 
before." 

"But  you  will  send  your  men  down  to  the  dock?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do  dot.  Vot  dime  you  vonts  dem, 
hey?" 

"To-morrow  morning  at  eight  o'clock,  sharp. 


ABOUT  SOME  MISSING  MEN  195 

Tell  them  to  watch  me,  and  when  I  wave  my 
handkerchief  they  can  come  forward  and  get  the 
goods." 

"How  many  poxes  vos  dere?" 

"Sixteen,  all  told.  You  want  to  be  careful  and 
caution  your  men.  I  don't  want  Captain  Marshall 
to  learn  what  I  am " 

The  boys  heard  no  more,  for  at  this  juncture  the 
clerk  came  forward,  having  finished  his  work  at 
the  corner  desk. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  he  asked,  blandly. 

"I  am  looking  for  a  man  who  is  supposed  to  have 
left  Cavasa  Island  by  steamer,  or  sailboat,  about 
two  months  ago,"  said  Dave.  "His  name  is  Dun- 
ston  Porter.  Can  you  tell  me  if  he  shipped  from 
here?" 

The  clerk  looked  over  a  book  he  drew  from  a 
desk. 

"I  see  nothing  of  the  name,"  he  said,  after  a 
pause. 

"You  would  have  the  name,  if  he  had  taken 
passage  from  here?"  questioned  Roger. 

The  clerk  nodded.  Then,  when  he  found  that 
he  could  do  nothing  more  for  them,  he  dropped 
into  an  easy  chair,  lit  a  black-looking  cigar  and 
took  up  a  newspaper. 

"There  is  one  more  shipping  office,"  said  Billy 
Dill,  as  he  led  the  way  to  the  street.  "We'll  go 
there." 


196    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Dave,  did  you  hear  that  talk  in  the  back 
room?"  questioned  the  senator's  son,  as  they  were 
hurrying  down  the  street. 

"I  did." 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"I  think  the  supercargo  is  up  to  some  game,  and 
we  must  tell  Phil  and  Captain  Marshall." 

"That's  just  my  idea,  too,  Dave.  Let  me  see, 
the  name  of  the  firm  was  Baumann  &  Feltmuller, 
wasn't  it?" 

"Yes." 

They  were  soon  at  the  last  of  the  shipping  offices. 
Here  the  clerk  could  scarcely  talk  English,  and 
they  had  to  call  in  the  services  of  a  gentleman  who 
chanced  to  be  present  and  who  could  speak  the 
native  tongue.  A  booking  list  was  consulted,  and 
it  was  announced  that  Dunston  Porter  had  taken 
passage  for  Nanpi,  on  Sobago  Island,  just  six 
weeks  before. 

"Six  weeks!"  cried  Dave.  "I  hope  he  is  there 
still.  Now,  how  can  I  communicate  with  him, 
Roger?" 

"You  can  send  him  a  letter,"  answered  Roger. 
"But  you  must  remember  that  the  Stormy  Petrel  is 
going  to  Nanpi  as  soon  as  her  cargo  for  this  town 
is  unloaded." 

From  the  shipping  clerk  they  learned  that  Dun- 
ston Porter  had  gone  to  Sobago  alone — that  is, 
without  his  partner,  Mr.  Lemington.    A  further 


ABOUT  SOME  MISSING  MEN  197 

searching  into  the  shipping  lists  revealed  the  fact 
that  the  partner  had  sailed  for  Australia  seven 
weeks  past. 

"I  reckon  they  dissolved  partnership,"  observed 
Billy  Dill,  "an'  one  went  his  way,  an'  tudder  the 
other  way.  An'  I  likewise  guess  they  didn't  git 
thet  treasure." 

There  was  now  nothing  to  do  but  to  return  to 
the  bark,  and  this  they  did  without  delay.  The 
boys  found  that  Captain  Marshall  had  gone  ashore 
on  business,  and  so  called  Phil  aside  and  related  to 
him  what  had  been  heard  in  the  office  of  Baumann 
&  Feltmuller. 

"You  are  right — there  is  something  in  the  wind," 
said  the  shipowner's  son.  "I  wish  the  captain  was 
here,  so  I  could  consult  with  him." 

"He'll  be  back  soon,  won't  he?"  questioned 
Roger. 

"He  said  he  might  not  be  back  until  late  this 
evening." 

Phil  was  interested  in  what  Dave  had  to  tell 
about  Dunston  Porter,  and  said  he  would  urge  the 
captain  of  the  Stormy  Petrel  to  set  sail  for  Nanpi 
at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 

It  was  not  until  ten  o'clock  that  Jasper  Van 
Blott  came  back  to  the  bark.  He  immediately 
walked  up  to  the  first  mate  and  the  pair  engaged 
in  conversation  for  some  time.  Then  the  super- 
cargo went  to  bed,  and  Roger  and  Dave  did  the 


198     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

same.     Phil  sat  up,  reading  and  awaiting  the  cap- 
tain's return. 

It  was  almost  seven  o'clock  when  the  country 
boy  sprang  up  and  awakened  the  senator's  son. 
Both  hurried  into  their  clothes  and  then  into  the 
cabin,  where  they  met  Phil,  whose  face  was  full  of 
worry. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  both. 

"Captain  Marshall  hasn't  come  back  yet." 

"Hasn't  come  back?"  ejaculated  Dave.  "Do 
you  mean  to  say  he  stayed  away  all  night?" 

"Exactly;  and  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it." 

"Did  he  say  he  might  remain  away?"  came  from 
Roger. 

"No." 

"Where  did  he  go?" 

"I  don't  know,  and  neither  does  Mr.  Shepley." 

"What  will  you  do  about "  began  Dave,  and 

cut  himself  short,  as  Jasper  Van  Blott  came  into  the 
cabin. 

"Mr.  Van  Blott,  do  you  know  anything  about 
the  captain?"  questioned  Phil. 

"I  do  not,"  was  the  short  reply. 

"It  is  queer  that  he  should  stay  away  all 
night." 

"Oh,  captains  like  to  have  good  times  occasion- 
ally," continued  the  supercargo,  with  a  sickly  grin. 

"If  you  mean  by  that,  that  Captain  Marshall 
went  off  to  have  a  good  time,  as  you  put  it,  I  do  not 


ABOUT  SOME  MISSING  MEN  199 

think  so,"  returned  Phil,  coldly.  "He  is  not  that 
sort." 

"Perhaps  you  know  him  better  than  I  do,"  flared 
up  the  supercargo. 

"I  know  that  he  is  a  man  who  sticks  to  his  duty, 
Mr.  Van  Blott.  Something  has  gone  wrong,  or 
he  would  be  back.'* 

"As  you  please."  The  supercargo  paused. 
"Well,  it  doesn't  matter  much,"  he  continued.  "I 
know  what  to  do,  and  I  am  going  ahead  without 
waiting  for  him." 

"You  mean  about  unloading?" 

"Yes." 

"Would  it  not  be  better  to  wait  until  Captain 
Marshall  returns?"' 

"No,  it  would  only  be  a  waste  of  time." 

No  more  was  said  just  then,  and  a  few  minutes 
later  breakfast  was  announced.  As  soon  as  it  was 
over,  Phil  called  his  chums  aside. 

"I  wish  you'd  do  me  a  favor,"  he  whispered. 
"Go  ashore  and  try  to  hunt  up  the  captain.  He 
must  be  around  somewhere.  I  will  try  to  hold  the 
supercargo  back  as  much  as  I  can." 

Dave  and  the  senator's  son  were  willing,  and  in 
less  than  ten  minutes  were  on  the  dock  and  moving 
for  the  streets  beyond. 

"Where  are  those  boys  going?"  asked  Jasper 
Van  Blott,  coming  up  to  Phil. 

"They  are  going  to  look  for  Captain  Marshall." 


200    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Humph!"  muttered  the  supercargo,  and  said 
no  more. 

"I  think  we  had  better  wait  until  the  captain 
returns,"  went  on  Phil. 

"I  am  not  going  to  wait,"  snapped  Van  Blott. 
"I  am  going  to  get  that  cargo  ashore  as  quickly  as 
it  can  be  done." 

And  fifteen  minutes  later  the  hatches  were 
opened  and  the  work  of  getting  out  the  boxes, 
barrels,  and  casks  began. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

IN   WHICH    THE    SUPERCARGO    IS    CORNERED 

From  one  street  corner  Dave  and  Roger  hurried 
to  another,  looking  in  every  direction  for  some  sign 
of  Captain  Marshall.  This  hunt  they  kept  up  for 
the  best  part  of  half  an  hour,  but  without  success. 

"He  is  certainly  nowhere  in  this  vicinity,"  said 
the  senator's  son.  "I  wonder  where  he  can  be 
keeping  himself." 

They  walked  on  more  slowly,  and  at  the  entrance 
to  a  lane  came  to  another  halt.  Then,  chancing 
to  look  into  the  lane,  Dave  uttered  a  short  cry: 

"There  he  is !" 

Coming  along  the  lane  was  Captain  Marshall. 
His  step  was  an  uncertain  one,  and  he  pitched 
from  side  to  side.  As  the  two  boys  ran  forward, 
the  master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel  gave  a  lurch  and 
landed  on  some  old  boxes  with  a  crash. 

"Oh,  Dave,  can  this  be  possible !"  murmured 
Roger.    "I  did  not  think  the  captain  would  do  it." 

"Let  us  help  him  to  the  ship,"  answered  Dave. 
He  was  as  much  shocked  as  his  companion,  and  he 
could  not  help  but  think  of  what  the  supercargo 
had  said. 

201 


202    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Oh,  is  it  you,  boys!"  mumbled  the  captain,  as 
he  espied  them.  "I  want  to — to  get  back  to  the 
ship." 

"We'll  help  you,"  said  Dave. 

"I've  had  an  awful  night — my  mind  is  in  a 
perfect  whirl,"  went  on  the  master  of  the  Stormy 
Petrel. 

"We'll  soon  have  you  safe  on  the  bark,"  put  in 
Roger. 

The  two  assisted  the  captain  to  his  feet.  His 
eyes  had  a  peculiar  stare  in  them.  Suddenly  he 
clapped  his  hand  to  his  pocket. 

"Funny!"  he  muttered.  "Very  funny!  I've  got 
my  watch !    And  I've  got  my  money,  too  !" 

"Did  you  think  they  were  gone?"  queried  Dave. 

"Well,  I  shouldn't  be — be  surprised.  I  thought 
they  did  it  to  rob  me.  What  time  is  it?  Oh,  but 
I  am  weak  in  the  legs,  boys !" 

"It  is  about  eight  o'clock." 

"In  the  morning?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  I  must  get  back  to  the  Stormy  Petrel  by 
all  means.     I — how  did  you  come  to  find  me?" 

"We  were  out  looking  for  you,"  answered 
Roger.  "We  were  alarmed,  and  so  was  Phil,  be- 
cause you  didn't  come  back  lasi  night." 

"I — I  meant  to  come  back.  Oh,  how  my  head 
spins  !  I  wish  I  had  a  drink  of  water !  That  coffee 
they  dosed  me  with  was  vile." 


THE  SUPERCARGO  IS  CORNERED      203 

"Coffee  they  dosed  you  with?"  queried  Dave. 
"Were  you  drugged?" 

"I  must  have  been,  lad.  I  met  some  men,  and 
they  wanted  me  to  drink  with  them.  I  refused. 
Then  they  offered  me  some  coffee  and  native  cakes, 
and,  to  be  sociable,  I  took  the  stuff.  Directly  after- 
ward I  began  to  grow  sleepy,  and  then  I  didn't 
know  a  thing  until  I  woke  up  at  the  end  of  that 
lane  awhile  ago." 

"Did  you  know  the  men?"  asked  Roger. 

"I  did  not,  but  they  pretended  to  know  me.  It's 
queer  they  didn't  rob  me.  I  wonder  why  they 
drugged  me?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Dave,  "unless " 

"Unless  what?" 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  say,  Captain  Marshall.  But 
I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  you  are  wanted  on  board  of 
the  Stormy  Petrel  at  once." 

"Who  wants  me?" 

"Phil  Lawrence.  We  have  learned  something 
about  Mr.  Van  Blott  which  we  think  you  ought  to 
know.  But  you  must  get  your  head  cleared  up,  first 
of  all." 

They  walked  the  captain  back  to  the  bark,  and, 
by  accident  more  than  design,  managed  to  get  the 
skipper  on  board  without  the  supercargo  seeing  the 
party.  Then  they  called  Phil  into  the  cabin,  and 
in  the  meantime  got  the  captain  some  fresh  water 
and  some  other  things  they  fancied  might  do  him 


204    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

good.  They  were  glad  to  note  that  his  dizziness 
was  fast  leaving  him. 

"This  looks  suspicious  to  me,"  said  Captain 
Marshall,  after  he  had  heard  what  the  boys  had 
to  relate.  "But  I  cannot  accuse  Van  Blott  of 
having  me  drugged,  as  I  have  no  proof  of  it.  I 
do  not  know  who  those  men  were,  and,  more  than 
likely,  they  will  keep  themselves  out  of  sight." 

"That  is  true,"  returned  Phil.  "But  you  can 
help  me  regarding  this  stuff  to  be  taken  away  by 
Baumann  &  Feltmuller,  can't  you?" 

"Certainly,  Phil.  I  want  to  know  all  about  that 
stuff  before  it  leaves  this  ship.  Have  you  the 
records  of  the  goods?" 

"No,  sir;  Mr.  Van  Blott  has  locked  the  books  in 
the  safe." 

"Then,  if  I  were  you,  as  your  father's  repre- 
sentative, I  should  demand  to  see  the  records.  I 
will  back  you  up." 

"If  you  will  back  me  up,  I'll  go  to  him  at  once. 
He  is  already  getting  the  goods  out  of  the  hold." 

"I'll  put  a  stop  to  that,"  answered  the  captain. 

He  was  still  feeble  in  the  legs,  but  managed  to 
climb  to  the  deck,  and  walked  to  where  the  super- 
cargo and  the  first  mate  were  directing  the  unload- 
ing of  a  portion  of  the  cargo. 

"Hello,  so  you  are  back!"  exclaimed  the  super- 
cargo, and  his  face  paled  a  little. 

"I  am,"  returned  the  captain,   coldly.      "Mr. 


THE  SUPERCARGO  IS  CORNERED      205 

Shepley,  did  you  give  orders  to  unload?"  he  went 
on,  turning  to  the  mate. 

"I — I — er — did,"  stammered  the  mate.  "You 
said  yesterday  we  were  to  start  first  thing  this 
morning." 

"I  did — but  I  expected  to  be  here  when  we 
began.  Mr.  Van  Blott,  Philip  Lawrence  wishes  to 
see  you  in  your  office." 

"I  haven't  time  to  bother  with  him  now," 
growled  the  supercargo.  "Go  ahead  with  those 
cases !"  he  shouted  to  some  stevedores  who  were 
nearby,  and  pulling  out  his  handkerchief  he  gave 
it  a  flourish  toward  the  dock. 

"Drop  those  cases!"  roared  Captain  Marshall, 
his  face  growing  red.  "Drop  them,  I  say!"  And 
the  natives  who  were  carrying  the  cases  stopped 
short. 

"Captain    Marshall "    began    Jasper   Van 

Blott.  "I — what  do  you  mean  by  this — er — by 
this " 

"I  told  you  that  Philip  Lawrence  wanted  to  see 
you  in  your  office.  You  had  better  see  him  before 
we  move  any  more  of  this  cargo." 

"Yes,  but " 

"I  won't  argue  the  matter,  Mr.  Van  Blott.  I 
was  drugged  last  night.  Do  you  understand? 
Drugged !  But  my  mind  is  clear  now,  and  I  want 
everything  on  this  bark  to  run  smoothly.  You  had 
better  go  to  your  office,  and  I'll  go  with  you." 


206    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

The  supercargo  glared  at  the  captain,  and  the 
latter  glared  in  return.  Then  Van  Blott  shrugged 
his  shoulders. 

"As  you  please,"  he  said.  "But  it  is  a  strange 
proceeding."  And  he  walked  to  that  part  of  the 
ship  where  was  located  his  little  office.  As  he 
passed  the  first  mate,  he  gave  the  man  a  wink  and 
turned  his  eyes  toward  the  cases  on  the  deck.  Paul 
Shepley  nodded  slightly. 

In  the  office  they  found  Phil  awaiting  them. 
Roger  followed  the  pair,  but  Dave  had  seen  the 
wink  that  was  passed,  and  remained  on  deck,  and 
a  moment  later  seated  himself  on  one  of  the  very 
cases  the  stevedores  had  been  in  the  act  of  removing 
from  the  ship. 

"Ain't  you  going  with  them?"  asked  the  first 
mate,  coming  up  with  a  dark  frown  on  his  face. 

"No,  I  think  I'll  stay  here  until  they  come  back," 
answered  Dave,  lightly. 

"Then  please  get  off  of  that  box." 

"I  am  not  hurting  the  box,  Mr.  Shepley." 

"Get  off,  I  say!" 

The  boy  from  the  country  did  so. 

"I  believe  Captain  Marshall  wanted  nothing 
moved  until  he  came  back,"  said  Dave,  gazing 
boldly  into  the  mate's  angry  face.  "Perhaps  I  had 
better  call  him,  if  you  are  going  to  work  again." 

"Who  said  I  was  going  to  move  anything?" 
growled  Paul  Shepley,  his  manner  showing  that 


THE  SUPERCARGO  IS  CORNERED      207 

that  was  just  what  he  had  had  in  mind  to  do. 
"Don't  you  get  too  fresh  around  me,  or  there  will 
be  trouble!" 

"Well,  if  there  is  trouble,  I'll  do  my  best  to  stand 
up  against  it." 

"Aw!  you  make  me  tired!"  grumbled  the  first 
mate,  and  strode  away  in  deep  disgust,  leaving 
Dave  master  of  the  field. 

In  the  meantime  a  stormy  meeting  was  being 
held  in  the  supercargo's  office.  At  first  Van  Blott 
flatly  refused  to  allow  Phil  to  look  at  his  books,  but 
at  last  brought  forth  several,  which  the  shipowner's 
son  knew  were  of  little  importance. 

"I  want  the  books  that  relate  to  the  goods  to  be 
landed  here,"  said  Phil.  "I  want  to  know  all  about 
each  piece  before  it  is  put  ashore." 

"Humph!  You  are  getting  very  particular, 
young  man!"  observed  the  supercargo. 

"I  do  not  deny  it." 

"Did  your  father  send  you  on  this  trip  to  spy 
on  me?" 

"You  may  put  it  that  way,  if  you  wish,  Mr.  Van 
Blott.  I  am  here  simply  to  learn  this  business  and 
to  see  that  everything  is  O.  K." 

"If  everything  is  all  right,  what  have  you  to  fear 
from  an  inspection  like  this?"  came  suggestively 
from  Captain  Marshall. 

"I  am  not  going  to  work  here  and  be  watched 
like  a  criminal!"  stormed  Jasper  Van  Blott.     "If 


208    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

old  man  Lawrence  can't  trust  me,  it  is  time  we 
parted  company!" 

"I  agree  with  you,"  returned  the  captain. 

"Do  you?"  came  with  a  sneer.  "Very  well.  I'll 
close  up  my  accounts  and  quit." 

"You'll  not  do  it  just  yet^"  put  in  Phil.  He  was 
pale,  but  determined 

"I  won't?" 

"No.  Before  you  quit  you  must  make  an  ac- 
counting to  me  of  goods  and  money,  and  satisfy  me, 
and  also  Captain  Marshall,  that  everything  is  O.  K. 
in  every  particular." 

"Bah !  Boy,  who  gave  you  authority  to  talk  to 
me  in  this  fashion?" 

"My  father." 

"I  don't  believe  it.  Why,  you  are  a  mere  boy 
— you  don't  know  what  you  are  saying.  I'll  close 
up  this  business  to  suit  myself  and  leave  my  keys 
with  Captain  Marshall,  and  that  will  end  it." 

"Mr.  Van  Blott,  you  must  remember  that  Philip 
Lawrence  is  the  shipowner's  son,"  said  the  captain, 
sternly. 

"I  don't  care  if  he  is.  He  has  no  legal  authority, 
and  I  don't  propose  to  let  him  drive  me." 

"Just  wait  a  minute,  until  I  come  back,"  said 
Phil,  starting  for  the  door. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  Roger. 

"To  my  stateroom.  I'll  be  back  in  a  few 
minutes." 


THE  SUPERCARGO  IS  CORNERED      209 

"What  is  he  going  to  do?"  questioned  the  super- 
cargo, uneasily. 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Captain  Marshall, 
shortly.  "But,  if  I  were  you,  Mr.  Van  Blott,  I 
should  listen  to  him.  In  a  certain  sense,  he  repre- 
sents his  father  on  this  vessel." 

"He  doesn't  represent  him  with  me!"  muttered 
the  supercargo.  His  anger  had  made  him  lose  a 
good  portion  of  his  common  sense. 

There  was  a  minute  of  silence,  during  which 
Jasper  Van  Blott  strode  up  and  down  the  narrow 
office.  Then  a  step  was  heard  outside,  and  Phil 
reappeared,  carrying  a  large  envelope  in  his  hand. 

"My  father  said  I  was  not  to  use  this  unless  it 
was  necessary,"  he  said,  drawing  a  paper  from  the 
envelope. 

At  the  appearance  of  a  legal-looking  document 
the  supercargo  started  back. 

"What's  that?"  he  demanded,  hoarsely. 

"This  is  a  document  authorizing  Captain  Mar- 
shall to  take  charge  of  your  affairs,  Mr.  Van  Blott. 
He  is  to  investigate  everything,  under  my  super- 
vision, and  is  to  hold  you  strictly  accountable  for 
everything  you  have  done  since  starting  on  this 
voyage." 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

THE    CARGO    MYSTERY    EXPLAINED 

There  was  a  death-like  silence  for  several  sec- 
onds after  Phil  made  his  announcement.  Even 
Captain  Marshall  was  astonished,  for  he  had  not 
anticipated  such  a  turn  of  affairs. 

"Let  me  see  that  paper  !"  demanded  Jasper  Van 
Blott,  wildly.  "I  will  not  believe  a  word  of  what 
you  have  said  until  I  read  that  paper." 

"Then  read  it,"  answered  the  shipowner's  son, 
and  passed  it  over. 

With  compressed  lips,  the  supercargo  perused 
the  document.    Then  he  gritted  his  teeth. 

"So  this  is  the  game  you  have  been  playing  on 
me,  eh?"  he  snarled.    "Well,  it  doesn't  work." 

"Doesn't  work?"  came  from  Roger,  who  was  as 
much  interested  as  any  one. 

"No,  it  doesn't  work.  That  paper  isn't  worth 
the  ink  it's  written  with.  It  was  drawn  up  in  the 
United  States,  and  we  are  not  in  the  United  States 
now." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  we  are  sailing  under  the 
United  States  flag,  Mr.  Van  Blott,"  said  Captain 
Marshall,    quickly.      "Besides   that,    I   think   the 

2IO 


THE  CARGO  MYSTERY  EXPLAINED    211 

authorities  here  will  respect  a  legal  document  drawn 
up  in  Uncle  Sam's  country." 

"It's  not  worth  a  pinch  of  snuff!"  roared  the 
supercargo,  and  would  have  torn  the  paper  to  bits, 
had  not  Phil  and  Roger  leaped  forward  and  pre- 
vented him. 

"None  of  that!"  cried  Phil.  "Let  that  alone, 
or  I'll  have  Captain  Marshall  place  you  under 
arrest." 

"Arrest?  Me  under  arrest ?  I'd  like  to  see  you 
do  it!"  fumed  the  supercargo. 

"I'll  do  it,  unless  you  do  what  is  right,"  said  the 
master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel,  quickly.  "Mr.  Van 
Blott,  .your  actions  do  you  no  credit.  Trying  to 
destroy  that  document  proves  to  me  beyond  a  doubt 
that  you  have  something  to  conceal.  I  shall  begin 
an  investigation  at  once,  and  the  boys  shall  aid 
me. 

"I  don't  care!"  roared  Jasper  Van  Blott.  "But 
I  am  done  with  the  ship  and  the  whole  crowd." 

"Please  hand  over  the  keys  to  your  safe  boxes." 

With  bad  grace,  the  supercargo  did  so. 

"Now  you  will  please  sit  down  and  let  us  go 
through  the  accounts,"  continued  the  captain. 

The  supercargo  squirmed  and  argued,  and  did 
his  best  to  get  away,  but  it  was  all  to  no  purpose, 
and,  in  the  end,  he  had  to  remain  in  the  office  until 
the  captain,  Phil,  and  Roger  had  examined  all  the 
shipping  accounts.    Some  of  the  entries  were  mixed 


212     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

up,  and  they  could  not  obtain  any  satisfactory  ex- 
planation regarding  them. 

"Now  we  will  go  on  deck  and  examine  that  stuff 
that  was  to  go  ashore,"  said  Captain  Marshall. 

"Especially  the  goods  for  Baumann  &  Felt- 
muller,"  put  in  the  senator's  son. 

"Ha!  What  do  you  know  about  that  firm?" 
gasped  Jasper  Van  Blott. 

"Not  much." 

"You — you  have  been  spying  on  me — you  must 
have  followed  me  on  shore,"  gasped  the  super- 
cargo. "But  you  are  mistaken,  you  will  find  noth- 
ing wrong,"  he  added,  suddenly,  and  then  appeared 
to  calm  down. 

They  went  on  deck,  where  they  found  Dave  still 
on  guard.  The  first  mate  was  sulking  near  the 
rail.  As  soon  as  the  captain  appeared  Dave  walked 
up  to  him. 

"I  am  glad  you  are  here,"  he  whispered.  "Mr. 
Shepley  wanted  to  send  the  goods  ashore,  but  I  told 
him  that,  if  he  did  so,  I  would  call  you." 

"Is  that  so?  Thank  you,  Dave,  I  am  glad  you 
went  on  watch,"  replied  the  master  of  the  Stormy 
Petrel. 

The  inspection  of  the  goods  began,  and  in  the 
midst  of  the  work  Jasper  Van  Blott  gave  an  excla- 
mation. 

"Did  anybody  bring  that  brown  book  up?"  he 
queried. 


THE  CARGO  MYSTERY  EXPLAINED    213 

Nobody  knew  anything  about  a  brown  book,  and 
all  looked  puzzled. 

"That  has  this  transaction  in  it  in  full,"  went  on 
the  supercargo.  "I  remember  now,  I  put  the  book 
in  my  stateroom.  I  will  go  below  and  get  it.  That 
will  prove  everything  is  as  straight  as  a  string. 
Then  I  am  going  to  sue  somebody  for  heavy  dam- 
ages," he  added. 

He  walked  to  the  companionway  and  disap- 
peared. Captain  Marshall  continued  to  inspect 
the  goods  to  go  ashore,  and  the  boys  aided  him. 
That  something  was  wrong  they  did  not  doubt, 
and  they  waited  impatiently  for  the  supercargo  to 
reappear  with  his  brown  book. 

"The  first  mate  has  gone  below,  too,"  announced 
Roger,  presently.  "Maybe  the  pair  are  talking  it 
over  between  them.  They  are  certainly  hand-in- 
glove  with  each  other,  according  to  what  Dave 
says." 

"Go  below  and  tell  Mr.  Van  Blott  I  want  him  to 
come  up  at  once,"  returned  Captain  Marshall. 

The  senator's  son  disappeared  down  the  com- 
panionway and  was  gone  for  several  minutes.  He 
came  up  with  a  worried  look  on  his  face. 

"I  can't  find  Mr.  Van  Blott  anywhere !"  he  cried. 

"What!"  roared  the  master  of  the  Stormy 
Petrel.    "He  must  be  down  there." 

"Unless  he  has  sneaked  ashore !"  came  quickly 
from  Dave. 


214    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Could  he  do  that?"  questioned  Phil. 

"He  might." 

"I  will  go  below  and  look  around,"  went  on 
Captain  Marshall.  "You  boys  scatter  on  the  deck 
and  watch  for  him.  He  must  not  be  allowed  to 
get  away!" 

The  boys  did  as' requested,  and  the  captain  went 
below,  to  be  gone  quarter  of  an  hour  and  more. 
When  he  came  up,  his  face  was  much  downcast. 

"He  has  certainly  gotten  away,"  he  declared. 
"His  valise  and  some  of  his  clothing  are  gone,  and 
his  money  box  is  wide  open  and  empty." 

"Where  is  the  mate?"  asked  Phil. 

"There  he  is!"  exclaimed  Dave,  pointing  to  the 
bow. 

The  captain  ran  forward. 

"Mr.  Shepley,  have  you  seen  Mr.  Van  Blott?" 

"When?"  inquired  the  mate,  slowly. 

"Within  the  last  ten  or  twenty  minutes." 

"Why,  yes." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"I  think  he  walked  ashore.  I  didn't  notice,  par- 
ticularly." 

"Humph!     Did  he  have  his  valise?" 

"I  don't  know  but  what  he  did.  I  wasn't  paying 
any  particular  attention.  Are  we  to  unload,  or 
not?"  went  on  the  first  mate. 

"We  are  to  do  nothing  until  Mr.  Van  Blott  is 
found,"  answered  the  captain,  shortly. 


THE  CARGO  MYSTERY  EXPLAINED    215 

"All  right;  in  that  case,  you'll  wait  a  long  time," 
murmured  the  mate  to  himself. 

After  that  a  regular  hunt  was  instituted,  and  the 
boys  went  ashore,  along  with  Billy  Dill.  They  even 
visited  the  offices  of  Baumann  &  Feltmuller,  but 
not  a  trace  of  the  missing  supercargo  could  be 
found  anywhere. 

When  the  boys  got  back  to  the  bark,  they  found 
that  Captain  Marshall  had  begun  on  an  examina- 
tion of  the  goods  taken  from  the  hold.  He  found 
a  number  of  cases  mismarked — those  which  were 
to  have  been  sent  to  Baumann  &  Feltmuller. 

"This  stuff  seems  to  have  been  meant  for  some 
firm  in  Australia — Featherstone  &  Harmsworth," 
said  the  captain.  "How  it  came  on  my  ship  is  a 
mystery  to  me." 

"Wait!"  shouted  Dave.  "I  know  something 
about  that.  Just  before  we  left  San  Francisco  I 
heard  some  dock  officials  speaking  about  some 
costly  cases  of  goods  which  had  disappeared  from 
a  neighboring  dock.  The  goods  were  for  the  firm 
of  Featherstone  &  Harmsworth,  I  remember  the 
name  well.  The  stuff  was  to  go  to  Sydney.  They 
said  they  had  tried  their  best,  but  could  get  no  trace 
of  the  stolen  cases." 

"That  explains  it !"  exclaimed  Phil.  "Van  Blott 
took  the  cases  and  had  them  stowed  away  in  the 
hold  of  this  ship.  He  was  going  to  sell  the  stuff 
to  Baumann  &  Feltmuller,  in  part  or  in  whole." 


216    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"I  believe  you  have  struck  the  truth,"  returned 
Captain  Marshall.  "And  now,  fearing  exposure, 
he  has  fled." 

"What  can  you  do  with  the  goods?"  questioned 
Roger. 

"I  don't  know,  yet.  Either  return  them  to  their 
owners,  or  sell  them  and  forward  the  money.  I'll 
have  to  think  the  matter  over." 

"What  a  rascal  Van  Blott  has  proved  himself 
to  be !"  was  Phil's  comment. 

"Yes,  and  I  reckon  that  man  in  San  Francisco, 
Bangor,  was  in  with  him,"  said  Dave,  and  he  was 
correct  in  his  surmise.  It  may  be  added  here, 
though,  that  Bangor  never  suffered  for  this  crime, 
for  he  was  caught,  shortly  after  the  sailing  of  the 
Stormy  Petrel,  and  tried  for  something  equally 
unlawful,  and  sentenced  to  prison  for  several  years. 

The  stolen  goods  were  placed  in  another  part  of 
the  ship,  and  then  the  work  of  unloading  a  part  of 
the  regular  cargo  began.  Paul  Shepley  had  to 
superintend  this  work,  and  did  so  in  a  thoughtful 
mood. 

"I  wish  I  knew  the  truth  about  the  mate,"  said 
Phil  to  Dave.  "I  am  going  to  watch  him  pretty 
closely  after  this." 

"He  certainly  had  something  in  common  with 
the  supercargo,"  replied  the  country  boy. 

From  Baumann  &  Feltmuller,  Captain  Marshall 
could  learn  but  little.    The  merchants  said  that  the 


THE  CARGO  MYSTERY  EXPLAINED    217 

supercargo  had  offered  to  sell  them  some  goods 
which,  he  declared,  had  not  been  accepted  by  other 
parties  because  of  delay  in  shipment.  They  had 
agreed  to  take  the  same  and  pay  on  delivery,  and 
when  convinced  that  all  was  fair  and  above  board. 

"They  are  a  tricky  firm,"  said  the  captain  to  the 
boys.  "But,  as  I  have  no  proof  against  them,  I'll 
have  to  let  them  go." 

In  spite  of  the  excitement  over  the  exposure  of 
the  supercargo,  Dave  was  anxious  to  sail  from 
Cavasa  Island  and  be  on  the  way  to  Sobago.  It  was 
with  great  satisfaction  that  he  heard  Captain  Mar- 
shall say  they  would  set  sail  on  the  following  Mon- 
day morning. 

"And  how  long  will  it  take  us  to  reach  Nanpi?" 
he  asked  of  the  master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel. 

"That  will  depend  upon  the  wind,  lad.  If  we 
have  luck,  we  ought  to  get  there  in  four  or  five 
days.  But  sometimes  the  wind  is  mighty  contrary 
around  these  parts." 

While  at  Cavasa  the  boys  spent  one  whole  day 
ashore,  and  went  out  riding  in  the  direction  of  the 
volcano  in  company  with  Billy  Dill.  The  old  tar 
showed  them  where  he  and  Dunston  Porter  and 
Mr.  Lemington  had  camped  out,  and  where  they 
had  hunted  for  the  treasure. 

"I'd  like  to  feel  an  earthquake  once,  just  for 
fun,"  remarked  Roger.  "It  must  be  a  queer  sensa- 
tion." 


218     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"It  is,"  answered  Billy  Dill.  "An'  one  ye  ain't 
apt  to  forgit  in  a  hurry." 

"If  it  was  bad,  I  think  I'd  be  scared  out  of  my 
wits,"  said  Phil.  "What  do  you  think  about  it, 
Dave?" 

"I  don't  want  any  in  mine." 

"Oh,  what's  a  little  earthquake !"  cried  the  sena- 
tor's son.  "It  would  be  an  experience  worth  talk- 
ing about,  that's  all." 

"Well,  maybe  you'll  have  your  wish  gratified 
before  we  leave  this  region  of  the  globe,"  said 
Dave.  "I  understand  that  earthquakes  are  com- 
mon for  thousands  of  miles  around.  Sometimes 
the  quakes  make  new  islands,  while  other  islands 
sink  out  of  sight." 

"Excuse  me  from  being  on  an  island  when  it 
sinks  out  of  sight,"  cried  Phil.  "I'd  rather  be  on 
solid  ground  any  time."  And  in  this  statement  the 
others  agreed  with  him. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

SWEPT   ONWARD   BY   A   TIDAL   WAVE 

"Off  at  last,  and  I  am  glad  of  it!" 

"I  suppose  you  are  anxious  to  get  to  Nanpi, 
Dave?" 

"I  am,  Roger.    Can  you  blame  me?" 

"Not  at  all.  In  fact,  if  I  were  in  your  place,  I 
think  I'd  be  even  more  anxious.  Meeting  this 
Dunston  Porter  means  so  much  to  you,"  went  on 
the  senator's  son. 

The  two  chums  were  on  the  forward  deck  of  the 
Stormy  Petrel  and  the  bark  was  just  leaving  the 
harbor  of  Tolao.  It  was  a  clear  day,  with  a  bright 
sun  high  overhead,  and  the  boys  felt  in  excellent 
spirits. 

Nothing  had  been  seen  or  heard  of  Jasper  Van 
Blott,  and,  with  the  sailing  of  the  bark,  he  was 
practically  forgotten  by  Dave  and  Roger.  But 
Phil  and  the  captain  remembered  him  and  were 
sorry  that  they  had  not  been  able  to  bring  the 
wicked  supercargo  to  justice. 

Although  he  was  in  nominal  authority,  Captain 
Marshall  turned  over  the  cargo  books  to  Phil,  and 
the  shipowner's  son  did  very  well  when  it  came  to 

219 


220    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

straightening  out  the  tangle  left  by  Van  Blott. 
Phil  wished  to  make  a  clean  report  to  his  father  and 
worked  with  a  will,  until  he  "knew  where  he  was 
at,"  as  he  declared. 

"I  rather  think  it  will  open  my  father's  eyes," 
said  Phil.  "He  has  suspected  Van  Blott  for  some 
time,  but  he  didn't  think  of  anything  like  this." 

On  the  second  day  out  the  wind  died  down 
utterly,  and  this  state  of  affairs  continued  for  sev- 
eral days.  The  sails  flapped  idly  against  the  masts, 
and  scarcely  any  progress  was  made. 

"We  are  not  going  to  make  such  a  quick  passage, 
after  all,"  remarked  Roger.  "My!  but  this  is 
slow  work,  I  must  declare !" 

"And  haven't  you  noticed  the  heat?"  added 
Phil.      "It  seems  to  me  to  be  unusually  hot." 

"It  is,"  said  Dave,  who  had  been  consulting  a 
thermometer.  "This  is  our  warmest  day,  by  four 
degrees.  If  it  gets  much  warmer,  we'll  certainly 
melt." 

That  afternoon  the  sea  appeared  to  be  strangely 
agitated,  and  toward  night  the  sailors  noticed  a 
large  number  of  dead  fish  rising  to  the  surface. 
Dave  discovered  a  large  shark,  and  this  proved  to 
be  dead,  also. 

"There  has  been  some  disturbance  under  the 
ocean's  surface,"  said  Captain  Marshall.  "More 
than  likely  an  earthquake." 

"An   earthquake!     And  we  never   knew   it!" 


SWEPT  ONWARD  BY  A  TIDAL  WAVE     221 

ejaculated  Roger,  and  his  tone  showed  his  disap- 
pointment. 

In  the  morning  the  sea  was  more  agitated  than 
ever.  One  minute  it  would  appear  to  flatten  out, 
the  next,  two  waves  would  come  together  with  a 
clash  that  sent  the  spray  flying  upward  for  many 
feet.  More  dead  fish  were  in  evidence  on  every 
hand. 

"I  have  never  witnessed  anything  like  this," 
commented  Captain  Marshall.  "I  trust  it  gets 
no  worse." 

When  the  breeze  sprang  up,  it  came  from  the 
wrong  direction,  and  the  Stormy  Petrel  had  to  tack. 
as  best  she  could.  The  breeze  kept  growing  stiffer 
and  stiffer,  until  it  was  little  short  of  a  gale.  Then 
a  thick  mist  settled  down  on  the  ocean,  shutting 
out  the  view  upon  all  sides. 

"I  must  say  I  don't  like  this,"  observed  the  sena- 
tor's son.  "Supposing  we  should  run  into  some- 
thing?" 

"There  isn't  much  to  run  into,"  replied  Dave. 
"I  just  asked  the  captain,  and  he  told  me  we  were 
a  good  many  miles  from  land  of  any  sort." 

"We  might  run  into  some  other  ship." 

"There  seem  to  be  very  few  ships  in  this 
locality." 

Morning  found  the  Stormy  Petrel  still  sur- 
rounded by  the  mist,  and  there  was  now  little  or  no 
wind.     The  barometer  had  gone  down,  and  the 


222     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

captain  ordered  some  sail  taken  in,  in  anticipation 
of  a  storm. 

At  noon  the  mist  appeared  to  lift  a  little,  and 
once  more  the  wind  sprang  up.  This  continued  for 
several  hours,  when,  of  a  sudden,  a  strange 
humming  filled  the  air. 

"What  can  that  be?"  cried  Dave,  who  was  on 
the  forward  deck. 

"It's  wind!"  cried  Billy  Dill.  "A  reg'lar  tor- 
nado, too." 

Captain  Marshall  was  on  deck,  no  longer  dis- 
posed to  trust  his  first  mate.  He  at  once  ordered 
all  of  the  sails  taken  in  and  stowed  away  securely. 
This  was  just  accomplished,  when  the  hurricane — 
for  it  was  nothing  less — struck  the  Stormy  Petrel, 
almost  sending  the  bark  on  her  beam  ends. 

"Better  go  below !"  shrieked  the  captain  to  the 
three  boys.     "It's  not  safe  for  you  on  deck." 

"I'll  be  careful,"  answered  Phil,  but  the  master 
of  the  bark  shook  his  head,  and  then  the  three  lads 
started  for  the  companionway,  holding  on  to  first 
one  thing  and  then  another  as  they  moved  along. 

Phil  had  just  reached  the  bottom  of  the  steps, 
Roger  was  half-way  down,  and  Dave  still  at  the 
top,  when  a  wild  cry  from  the  bow  reached  their 
ears. 

"Hold  tight,  all  of  ye!"  came  in  the  voice  of 
Billy  Dill.  "Hold  on,  or  ye'll  be  swept  overboard, 
sure  I" 


SWEPT  ONWARD  BY  A  TIDAL  WAVE     223 

Everybody  on  board  the  Stormy  Petrel  realized 
that  this  could  be  no  idle  warning,  and  all  held  on 
like  grim  death  to  anything  that  was  handy.  The 
next  moment  there  was  a  strange  hissing  and  pound- 
ing of  the  ocean,  and,  in  a  twinkling,  the  Stormy 
Petrel  was  caught  on  what  seemed  to  be  the  top  of 
a  giant  wave  and  carried  along  as  if  in  the  grip  of 
a  demon  of  the  deep ! 

The  upward  and  forward  movement  came  with 
such  a  force  that  nearly  everybody  was  taken  clean 
and  clear  off  his  feet,  and  had  not  each  one  clung 
fast,  as  directed  by  Billy  Dill,  somebody  must  surely 
have  been  flung  overboard.  The  bark  turned 
around  and  around  on  the  top  of  the  wave,  and 
then  lurched  forward  and  went  on  and  on,  the 
spray  flying  so  thickly  that  scarcely  a  thing  of 
what  was  beyond  could  be  seen. 

"My  gracious!"  gasped  Roger,  who  had  been 
flung  down  on  top  of  Phil.     "What  is  this?" 

"Don't  ask  me  !"  returned  Dave,  who  was  sitting 
on  the  upper  step  with  his  arms  entwined  around 
the  companionway  rail.  "I  guess  it's  an  earth- 
quake and  a  hurricane  rolled  into  one." 

"Has  anybody  gone  overboard?"  asked  Phil,  as 
he  tried  to  stand  up. 

"I  don't  know.     Billy  Dill  gave  the  warning." 

The  door  to  the  cabin  was  open,  and  the  three 
lads  fairly  tumbled  into  the  compartment.  The 
bark  was  rocking  to  such  an  extent  that  to  stand 


224    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

upright  was  out  of  the  question.  Everything  that 
was  loose  was  on  the  floor,  shifting  from  one  side 
to  the  other. 

The  boys  waited  with  bated  breath,  and  a  few 
minutes  later  heard  a  crash  on  the  deck,  which  told 
that  a  topmast,  or  one  of  the  yards,  had  come  down. 
Then  came  a  yell  of  alarm  from  one  of  the  sailors. 

"We  are  going  to  sink !    We  are  going  to  sink !" 

"Did  you  hear  that?"  ejaculated  Roger.  "He 
said  the  Stormy  Petrel  was  going  to  sink!" 

"What  shall  we  do  ?"  put  in  Phil.  "I  don't  want 
to  drown !" 

Phil  had  scarcely  spoken  when  a  side  door  to  one 
of  the  staterooms  burst  open  and  a  man  came  forth, 
wild  with  terror,  his  face  scratched  and  bleeding. 
Much  to  their  amazement,  they  saw  it  was  Jasper 
Van  Blott. 

"Is  the  ship  really  going  down?"  cried  the 
former  supercargo,  in  a  trembling  voice. 

"Where  did  you  come  from?"  cried  Dave. 

"I — er — I've  been  in  hiding.  But,  tell  me,  are 
we  going  down?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"I — er — I  must  go  on  deck  and  see.  It  nearly 
killed  me,  the  bark  bounced  around  so,"  went  on 
Van  Blott. 

He  started  for  the  companionway,  but  had  not 
yet  reached  the  top  when  a  big  wave  hit  the  Stormy 
Petrel  broadside,  sweeping  the  deck  from  end  to 


The  former  supercargo  was  washed  off  the  steps  and  came 
down  flat  on  his  back.  —  Page  225. 


SWEPT  ONWARD  BY  A  TIDAL  WAVE     225 

end  and  sending  some  of  the  water  into  the  cabin. 
The  former  supercargo  was  washed  off  the  steps 
and  came  down  flat  on  his  back,  screaming  with 
terror. 

The  boys  were  nearly  as  much  alarmed,  and,  as 
soon  as  it  was  possible  to  do  so,  all  three  crawled 
up  to  where  they  could  get  a  view  of  the  deck  and 
the  sea  beyond. 

The  outlook  was  truly  startling.  The  ocean  was 
whipped  up  into  a  milk-white  foam  and  was  dash- 
ing and  churning  in  all  directions.  One  tre- 
mendous wave  was  rolling  straight  to  the  south- 
ward, and  on  this  the  bark  was  riding,  like  a  monkey 
on  a  runaway  race  horse.  The  wind  was  whistling 
through  the  rigging,  and  the  sky  was  filled  with 
dark  clouds  and  a  strange,  whitish  dust. 

"What  is  this?"  called  Dave  to  the  captain,  as 
the  latter  passed. 

"It's  a  tidal  wave !"  yelled  back  Captain  Mar- 
shall. "There  has  been  another  earthquake,  and, 
most  likely,  some  of  the  volcanoes  in  this  vicinity 
have  become  active." 

"Are  we  going  down,  as  that  sailor  said?" 

"Not  yet.  I  will  warn  you,  if  there  is  any 
danger  of  our  sinking." 

"You  can't  put  out  any  small  boats,  can  you?" 
asked  Phil. 

"No,  a  small  boat  would  not  live  a  minute  in 
such  a  sea  as  is  now  running." 


226    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Has  anybody  been  washed  overboard?"  asked 
Roger. 

"I  believe  not — but  I  am  not  sure.  It  came  on 
so  sudden,  we  had  no  time  to  prepare  for  it,"  said 
Captain  Marshall. 

"Mr.  Van  Blott  is  below,"  said  Dave. 

"Van  Blott !     You  must  be  dreaming  I" 

"No.  He  had  been  in  hiding,  and  the  alarm 
scared  him." 

"Humph !  Well,  we'll  take  care  of  him  later — 
if  we  get  out  of  this  with  a  whole  skin." 

The  boys  could  do  nothing  on  deck,  and  so  went 
below  again,  to  find  that  the  former  supercargo 
had  disappeared. 

"It  doesn't  matter,"  observed  Phil.  "We  know 
he  is  on  board,  and  he  can't  get  away  until  we  land, 
and  I  guess  we  can  root  him  out  before  that  time." 

The  Stormy  Petrel  was  still  being  carried  for- 
ward, but  now  the  motion  was  a  bit  more  steady 
than  before.  It  was  true  that  she  had  encountered 
a  tidal  wave,  due  to  a  submarine  earthquake,  and 
also  true  that  a  volcano  on  the  island  of  Cholomu 
had  become  active.  The  fine  volcanic  dust  floated 
for  miles  over  the  ocean,  covering  the  bark  from 
stem  to  stern  as  with  flour. 

Half  an  hour  later  came  another  alarm.  Some- 
body roared  out:  "Breakers  ahead!"  and  in  a 
moment  more  the  Stormy  Petrel  was  in  the  midst 
of  a  choppy  sea,  and  staggered  from  side  to  side,  as 


SWEPT  ONWARD  BY  A  TIDAL  WAVE     227 

if  ready  to  go  over.  Then  came  a  scraping  at  the 
bottom. 

"We  have  struck  a  reef!"  cried  the  first  mate. 
"We  are  done  for  now!"  But,  even  as  he  spoke, 
the  bark  went  on,  over  the  reef  and  into  what 
seemed  to  be  a  large  harbor.  Far  in  the  distance 
could  be  seen  a  palm-fringed  shore,  with  the  waves 
dashing  high  up  on  the  sands. 

It  took  Captain  Marshall  but  an  instant  to  con- 
sider the  situation,  and  he  immediately  gave  orders 
to  cast  an  anchor.  The  Stormy  Petrel  continued  to 
rush,  onward,  but  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore 
the  forward  progress  was  checked.  Then  another 
anchor  was  dropped,  and  it  was  seen  that  this  had 
secured  a  good  hold.  In  the  meantime  the  waters 
of  the  tidal  wave  began  to  recede,  and  by  sunset  the 
ocean  was  almost  as  calm  as  ever. 

"Thank  fortune,  that  peril  is  a  thing  of  the 
past!"  said  Dave,  fervently;  and  the  other  boys 
and  Captain  Marshall  echoed  his  sentiments. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

EXPLORING  A   TROPICAL   ISLAND 

The  night  to  follow  was  an  anxious  one  for  all 
on  board  the  Stormy  Petrel.  The  sea  was  still  too 
rough  to  think  of  venturing  ashore,  and  so  it  was 
impossible  to  learn  to  what  harbor  they  had  floated 
and  what  was  the  prospect  of  continuing  their 
voyage  to  Sobago  Island. 

"We  must  be  at  least  two  hundred  miles  out  of 
our  reckoning,"  said  Captain  Marshall,  in  reply 
to  a  question  from  Phil.  "This  may  be  Tapley 
Island,  but  I  am  not  sure." 

"Is  Tapley  Island  inhabited?" 

"I  am  not  sure  about  that,  either.  There  was 
once  a  colony  there,  but  I  think  it  died  out.  The 
natives  on  the  other  islands  around  here  are  very 
fierce." 

"Then  I  hope  we  haven't  landed  on  one  of  the 
other  islands,"  remarked  Dave. 

"If  we  came  over  a  reef,  how  are  we  to  get  out 
of  this  harbor?"  questioned  Roger. 

"That  remains  to  be  learned,  Roger,"  answered 
the  master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel,  gravely. 

228 


EXPLORING  A  TROPICAL  ISLAND     229 

During  the  night  the  sea  went  down  a  great 
deal,  and  in  the  morning  the  harbor  could  be  plainly- 
distinguished.  A  boat  was  lowered,  and  Captain 
Marshall  went  ashore,  taking  Dave  and  Phil  with 
him. 

It  was  an  easy  matter  to  beach  the  rowboat  on 
the  sands,  and  the  boys  leaped  ashore  quickly  and 
ran  up  to  the  nearest  of  the  palm  trees.  A  look 
around  showed  all  how  the  gigantic  tidal  wave  had 
torn  and  twisted  everything  growing  near  the 
water's  edge.  In  some  spots  the  sand  lay  a  foot 
thick  on  beds  of  grass  and  moss  and  small  brush- 
wood. 

"We  can  be  thankful  that  our  ship  was  not  cast 
up  high  and  dry  on  the  shore,"  remarked  Captain 
Marshall,  as  he  gazed  around.  "That  wave  must 
have  done  the  shipping  for  hundreds  of  miles 
around  great  damage." 

The  party  walked  up  and  down  the  beach  for 
almost  a  mile,  but  without  seeing  the  first  sign  of 
inhabitants  of  any  sort.  The  shore  was  full  of 
dead  fish  and  overturned  turtles,  and  the  sailors 
took  some  back  to  the  ship  with  them  for  eating 
purposes. 

It  was  nearly  midday  when  they  returned  to  the 
ship,  and  the  boys  were  so  hungry  that  a  mess  of 
fried  fish  was  particularly  appetizing  to  them.  At 
noon  the  captain  made  some  observations  and  got 
out  his  charts,  and  finally  announced  that  they  must 


230    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

be  at  a  small  island,  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles 
to  the  southward  of  Sobago. 

"The  island  is  not  of  great  importance,"  said 
he.  "It  is  shaped  a  good  deal  like  the  letter  B,  and 
this  harbor  is  formed  by  the  double  curve  on  one 
side.  The  interior  of  each  of  the  two  portions  is 
mostly  marsh  land — a  good  place  for  tropical 
fevers.  The  reef  outside  of  the  harbor  is  well  de- 
fined on  the  chart,  and  extends  in  a  semicircle  for 
many  miles." 

"Isn't  there  any  opening  at  all?"  queried  Dave. 

"For  small  vessels,  yes." 

"But  not  for  a  bark  the  size  of  ours?" 

"That  remains  to  be  found  out.  I  shall  go  this 
afternoon  and  make  some  soundings." 

"If  there  isn't  any  opening  in  the  reef,  what  are 
we  to  do  ?"  asked  Phil,  blankly.  "Why,  the  Stormy 
Petrel  will  have  to  remain  here  forever !" 

"Which  puts  me  in  mind  of  a  story,  as  Shadow 
Hamilton  would  say,"  came  from  Dave.  "I  once 
heard  of  a  fellow  who  built  a  rowboat  in  the  garret 
of  his  house.  After  the  boat  was  done,  it  was  so 
large  he  couldn't  get  it  out  of  the  door  or  window, 
and  he  had  to  take  the  boat  apart  again." 

"If  the  boys  at  Oak  Hall  could  see  us  now!" 
cried  Roger.  "But  about  our  ship.  We  didn't 
build  it  here — the  tidal  wave  sent  it  in,  over  yonder 
reef.  Now  the  question  arises,  how  are  we  to  get 
over  the  reef  again?" 


EXPLORING  A  TROPICAL  ISLAND     231 

"If  there  is  no  opening  in  the  reef,  maybe  we  can 
blow  one  out  with  dynamite,"  suggested  Phil. 

After  dinner  Captain  Marshall  went  out  in  the 
largest  of  the  rowboats,  taking  with  him  his  pick 
of  the  sailors.  They  took  a  lead  line  along,  and 
remained  away  until  dark,  taking  as  many  sound- 
ings as  they  possibly  could.  It  was  dangerous 
work,  and  those  on  the  bark  were  glad  when  the 
rowboat  returned. 

"Well,  did  you  find  a  channel?"  asked  the  first 
mate. 

"No,"  was  the  short  answer.  "There  are  sev- 
eral openings,  but  none,  that  I  discovered,  wide 
enough  for  the  Stormy  Petrel." 

"Of  course,  you  didn't  cover  the  whole  reef?" 

"By  no  means.  I  will  go  out  again  to-morrow — 
or  you  may  do  so." 

The  news  the  captain  brought  was  very  dis- 
heartening, and  it  was  a  gloomy  party  that  assem- 
bled in  the  cabin  of  the  bark  that  evening. 

"We  shall  be  perfectly  safe  in  this  harbor,  so 
long  as  the  weather  remains  fair,"  said  Captain 
Marshall.  "But  a  heavy  blow  might  cause  us  to 
drag  our  anchors  and  either  run  ashore  or  on  the 
reef.  We  must  get  away  in  the  near  future,  if  it 
can  possibly  be  accomplished." 

"You  can't  get  away  and  to  Sobago  any  too  quick 
for  me,"  replied  Dave. 

That  evening  Jasper  Van   Blott  came  out  of 


232    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

hiding  and  attempted  to  take  his  place  at  the  cabin 
table.  But  Captain  Marshall  would  have  none  of 
this  and  sent  the  former  supercargo  forward,  where 
the  sailors  made  room  for  him  in  the  forecastle. 
This  angered  Van  Blott  intensely,  and  he  gritted 
his  teeth  with  rage. 

"Wait  until  I  get  the  chance,"  he  said  to  him- 
self.    "I'll  get  square  for  this  insult!" 

"He  can't  run  away  for  the  present,"  the  captain 
explained  to  the  boys.  "When  we  get  to  a  regular 
stopping  place,  I'll  put  him  in  irons." 

On  the  following  morning  it  was  so  fair  all  the 
boys  begged  to  be  allowed  to  go  ashore  and  do  a 
little  exploring.  The  captain  was  willing,  but  told 
them  to  be  careful.  Billy  Dill  was  to  go  with  them, 
and  they  took  along  a  pistol,  a  shotgun,  and  some 
provisions. 

"If  you  get  into  trouble,  fire  two  shots  in  quick 
succession,"  said  Captain  Marshall.  "If  I  want 
you  to  return,  I'll  fire  two  shots." 

The  boys  got  into  the  boat,  and  Billy  Dill  took 
one  pair  of  oars  and  Dave  the  others.  They  were 
soon  at  the  beach  and  landed  in  true  nautical  style. 
Then  the  rowboat  was  drawn  up  out  of  the  water 
and  into  the  shade  of  some  palms,  that  the  sun 
might  not  crack  open  the  seams. 

"We  must  be  extremely  careful,"  observed  Phil. 
"Remember,  we  do  not  know  what  is  on  this 
island." 


Billy  Dill  managed  to  catch  the  last  one  and  turn  him  over. 
Page  233. 


EXPLORING  A  TROPICAL  ISLAND     233 

"Sure,  there  might  be  lions,"  suggested  Roger, 
with  a  wink  and  a  glance  at  Billy  Dill. 

"You  boys  know  better  nor  thet,"  rejoined  the 
old  tar.  "None  o'  these  South  Sea  islands  have 
much  in  the  way  o'  wild  beasts.  But  you  may 
strike  a  big  snake." 

"Excuse  me,  but  I  don't  want  to  be  introduced 
to  his  snakeship,"  cried  the  senator's  son. 

After  a  little  look  around,  they  determined  to 
start  up  the  shore,  and  did  so,  with  their  provisions 
on  their  backs  and  Dave  carrying  the  shotgun  and 
Phil  the  pistol.  Roger  and  the  old  tar  armed 
themselves  with  big  sticks. 

A  half-mile  was  covered,  when  they  came  to  a 
hollow,  in  which  were  basking  a  number  of  turtles, 
all  of  great  size.  Phil  gave  a  shout,  and  on  the 
instant  the  turtles  all  headed  for  the  ocean  with 
clumsy,  but  swift,  strides.  Billy  Dill  made  after 
them  and  managed  to  catch  the  last  one  and  turn 
him  over. 

"He  will  make  fine  turtle  soup,"  said  the  tar. 

"So  he  will!"  cried  Dave.  "I  suppose  I  might 
have  shot  at  them." 

"Not  worth  while,  lad;  one  is  enough." 

They  soon  came  to  a  portion  of  the  shore  where 
the  undergrowth  was  exceedingly  close,  and  they 
had  to  journey  a  short  distance  inland.  The  palms 
were  thick,  and  they  saw  numerous  cocoanuts  and 
great  varieties   of   beautiful    ferns    and   gigantic 


234    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

creeping  vines.  Billy  Dill  also  pointed  out  three 
varieties  of  bread-fruit  trees. 

"Well,  a  fellow  wouldn't  starve  here,  in  spite  of 
the  scarcity  of  meat,"  observed  Dave. 

"And  meat  isn't  especially  good  in  hot  weather," 
added  Roger. 

"Natives  down  here  eat  very  little  meat,"  said 
the  old  tar.  "They  use  lots  of  yams  and  such  stuff, 
besides  bananas  and  plantains.  Everything  grows 
of  itself,  and  they  have  a  lazy  man's  life  of  it." 

"Excepting  when  they  fight  each  other,"  ob- 
served Phil. 

An  hour  later  they  came  out  on  the  shore  again. 
They  were  now  away  from  the  harbor  and  could 
look  straight  out  on  the  ocean. 

"Look!  look!"  cried  Roger,  pointing  seaward. 
"Am  I  mistaken,  or  do  I  see  a  long  canoe  filled 
with  men?" 

"It  certainly  is  a  canoe,"  declared  Dave,  after  a 
look. 

"And  it  is  filled  with  natives,"  added  Phil. 
"What  do  you  make  of  this?"  he  added,  turning  to 
Billy  Dill.    "Are  they  coming  here?" 

"I  don't  think  they  are,  Phil.  They  seem  to  be 
headed  away  from  this  island." 

The  canoe  was  certainly  a  large  one,  and  they 
counted  at  least  twelve  natives  at  the  paddles,  or 
sweeps.  Other  natives  were  in  the  bow  and  stern 
of  the  craft.    In  quarter  of  an  hour  the  canoe  was 


EXPLORING  A  TROPICAL  ISLAND     235 

but  a  speck  in  the  distance,  and  then  it  was  lost  to 
sight  altogether. 

"We'll  have  to  tell  the  captain  about  this,"  de- 
clared Dave.  "If  there  are  natives  around,  he  will 
want  to  know  it." 

"Perhaps  they  can  tell  us  of  a  way  out  of  the 
harbor,"  suggested  Roger. 

"Like  as  not,  if  there  is  a  way  out,"  spoke  up 
Billy  Dill.  "They  generally  know  the  coasts  putty 
well — bein'  out  so  much  in  their  canoes." 

The  little  party  continued  on  its  exploring  tour, 
but  soon  came  to  a  portion  of  the  marsh  land  the 
captain  had  mentioned.  Not  wishing  to  get  stuck, 
they  began  to  retrace  their  steps,  until  they  were  in 
the  midst  of  the  thickets  again.  Then  a  strange 
rushing  sound  through  the  trees  broke  upon  their 
ears. 

"Wait!"  whispered  Billy  Dill,  "I  know  what 
that  is.     Don't  make  any  noise." 

"Is  there  any  danger?"  queried  Roger. 

The  old  tar  shook  his  head.  Then  he  pointed 
upward,  and  the  boys  saw  a  large  flock  of  beautiful 
tropical  birds  settling  down  on  all  sides  of  them. 

"What  a  sight!"  murmured  Dave.  "How 
pretty  they  are !" 

"They  get  birds  for  ladies'  hats  from  places  like 
this,"  whispered  Billy  Dill. 

"I  know  it.  What  a  shame  to  shoot  them  down, 
tool" 


236    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"It  is  a  shame,  lad;  and  ladies  ought  to  stop 
wearin'  sech  finery,"  said  the  old  tar,  soberly. 

They  watched  the  beautiful  birds  for  some  time. 
Then  the  creatures  discovered  the  strangers,  and 
off  they  went  in  a  mad  flight,  and  were  lost  to  sight. 

An  hour  later  found  the  party  passing  down  the 
shore  once  more.  Here  they  walked  on  the  sand 
until  they  came  to  something  of  a  cove,  surrounded 
by  stately  palms. 

"Might  as  well  rest  a  bit "  began  Roger, 

when  Dave  uttered  a  cry : 

"See,  the  remains  of  a  campfire !" 

"Yes,  and  the  remains  of  a  feast,  too!"  added 
Phil.    "Those  natives  must  have  been  here  1" 


CHAPTER    XXVII 

A   MAP   AND  A   PLOT 

The  boys  and  Billy  Dill  viewed  the  surround- 
ings with  interest.  Some  bones  lay  on  the  ground, 
and  they  kicked  them  over. 

"These  can't  be  human  bones,  can  they?"  whis- 
pered the  senator's  son  to  Dave. 

"No,  Roger,  they  are  nothing  but  the  bones  of 
some  small  animal." 

"I  was  afraid  the  natives  might  be  cannibals !" 

To  one  side  of  the  camp  lay  a  fantastically 
carved  stick,  evidently  cut  by  somebody  during  his 
leisure.  Dave  picked  this  up  and  saw  that  it  con- 
tained a  heart,  an  anchor,  a  cross,  several  links  of 
a  chain,  and  some  stars.  At  the  big  end  of  the  stick 
was  an  American  flag. 

"Hello,  look  here !"  exclaimed  the  country  boy. 
"This  is  strange,  to  say  the  least.  I  don't  believe 
any  native  would  cut  a  stick  in  this  fashion." 

"Neither  do  I,"  declared  Phil.  "That  must  have 
been  carved  by  an  American,  and  with  his  jack- 
knife.  Perhaps  some  sailors  were  camping  out 
here.", 

"To  me  this  campfire,  or  what's  left  o'  it,  looks 
237 


238     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

to  be  about  a  week  old,"  said  Billy  Dill.  "The 
question  is,  where  did  the  crowd  go  to  from  here?" 

"Maybe  there  were  some  Americans  with  those 
natives  in  that  canoe,"  suggested  Roger. 

"In  that  case,  the  natives  must  be  friendly,"  re- 
turned Phil. 

They  walked  around  the  locality  and  down  the 
shore  half  a  mile  further,  but  could  find  nothing 
more  of  interest.  Then  they  sat  down  to  enjoy  the 
lunch  they  had  brought,  washing  the  meal  down 
at  a  spring,  close  by  where  the  campfire  had  been. 

"It  is  wonderful  that  fresh  water  should  be  so 
close  to  the  salt,"  observed  the  senator's  son. 
"You'd  think  it  would  all  get  salt." 

"Nature  knew  man  wanted  fresh  water,  and  so 
it  was  placed  there,"  replied  Billy  Dill.  "Trust  a 
kind  Providence  to  take  care  on  us  every  time." 

After  the  meal  the  party  set  off  for  the  opposite 
shore  of  the  island,  over  a  small  hill  which  divided 
one  end  from  the  other.  Here  the  jungle  was  so 
thick  they  had  to  literally  force  their  way  through, 
and  each  of  the  boys  got  his  clothing  torn  more  or 
less.  Once  the  old  tar  became  so  completely  fast- 
ened that  the  lads  had  to  go  to  his  assistance  and 
cut  him  loose  with  their  pocket-knives. 

"I'm  jest  about  anchored!"  remarked  Billy  Dill. 
"This  is  worse  nor  the  Sargasso  Sea,  ain't  it?" 

By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  they  gained  the 
opposite  shore  of  the  island.    Here  the  ground  was 


A  MAP  AND  A  PLOT  239 

very  rough,  but  at  one  spot  they  found  the  remains 
of  a  village — two  houses  of  logs  and  half  a  dozen 
thatched  huts.  The  houses  and  huts  were  bare, 
and  nothing  of  interest  was  to  be  found  around  the 
remains  of  half  a  dozen  campfires. 

"This  shows  that  somebody  lived  here  once  upon 
a  time,"  observed  Phil.  "But  it  couldn't  have  been 
much  of  a  population." 

"Can't  tell  as  to  thet,"  came  from  the  old  sailor. 
"These  natives  live  pretty  thick  sometimes,  ten  or 
a  dozen  in  one  hut — and  a  good  many  live  right 
out  under  the  trees." 

Dave  and  Roger  had  passed  into  one  of  the 
deserted  log  houses,  and  the  country  youth  struck 
a  match,  that  they  might  see  around  a  little  better. 
Somewhat  to  their  astonishment,  they  saw  pinned 
up  on  a  wall  a  sheet  of  water-stained  brown  wrap- 
ping paper,  upon  which  was  drawn  something  of  a 
map,  with  a  heavy  cross  where  two  lines  met. 

"Here's  a  discovery!"  cried  Dave.  "Wonder 
what  this  map  was  for?" 

The  others  came  in,  and  a  minute  later  a  torch 
was  lit,  and  all  examined  the  map  with  care.  Then 
Roger  uttered  a  cry : 

"Dave,  look  there!"  and  the  senator's  son 
pointed  to  one  corner  of  the  map.  In  faint  letters 
was  the  written  name : 

Dunston  A.  Porter. 


24o    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"The  very  man  I  am  looking  for!"  ejaculated 
Dave,  and  his  heart  gave  a  bound.  "Oh,  boys, 
what  can  it  mean?" 

"It  means  that  Mr.  Porter  has  been  here,"  an- 
swered Roger. 

"He  must  have  been  hunting  for  that  treasure," 
said  Phil.     "This  may  be  one  of  his  maps." 

"That's  a  fact,"  said  Billy  Dill.  "He  was  al- 
ways drawing  jest  such  things  when  I  was  with 
him.  He  said  he  was  bound  to  find  that  treasure 
some  day." 

"This  map  looks  to  be  quite  old,"  went  on  Dave, 
in  disappointed  tones.  "I  wish  it  was  fresh  and  he 
was  here." 

"He  must  have  come  here  after  sailing  to  Sobago 
Island,"  said  the  senator's  son,  "and  that  can't  be 
so  very  long  ago." 

After  that  they  made  a  closer  hunt  than  before 
in  and  around  the  camp,  but  found  nothing,  outside 
of  two  buttons,  a  bit  of  lead  pencil,  and  the  broken 
handle  of  a  spade. 

"That  spade  proves  there  was  some  digging 
done,"  said  Phil.  "Undoubtedly  he  came  here 
looking  for  that  treasure." 

"Did  you  ever  get  any  of  the  particulars  of  that 
treasure?"  asked  Dave,  of  the  old  sailor. 

"Not  much,  exceptin'  that  it  was  a  treasure  of 
pearls  and  precious  stones  once  hidden  by  some 
native  king.    Mr.  Porter  didn't  want  to  tell  much 


A  MAP  AND  A  PLOT  241 

about  it,  and  I  didn't  feel  as  I  had  the  right  to  ask 
him." 

It  was  now  growing  late,  and  all  felt  that  it  was 
time  to  return  to  the  ship.  Before  leaving  the  hut, 
Dave  pinned  a  slip  of  paper  over  the  map,  writing 
upon  it  as  follows: 

"To  Dunston  A.  Porter: 

"I  am  very  anxious  to  meet  you.  I  am  on  board 
the  bark  Stormy  Petrel,  in  the  harbor  of  this 
island,  and  bound  for  Sobago  Island.  Please  see 
me,  by  all  means.  David  Porter." 

To  this  the  youth  added  the  date,  and  also  his 
home  address,  in  case  he  should  fail  to  meet  Dun- 
ston Porter  and  the  man  should  wish  to  write  to 
him. 

"That  certainly  ought  to  interest  him — espe- 
cially if  he  is  interested  in  a  lost  boy,"  was  Roger's 
comment. 

Dave  was  in  a  sober  mood  when  he  returned  to 
the  ship  and  did  not  feel  much  like  talking.  He 
allowed  the  others  to  relate  the  day's  experience,  to 
which  Captain  Marshall  listened  closely. 

"It  is  certainly  a  pity  we  didn't  get  a  chance  to 
talk  to  those  natives,"  said  the  master  of  the  Stormy 
Petrel.  "They  might  have  shown  me  some  way 
out  of  this  harbor." 

"Then  you  haven't  found  any  passage  through 
the  reef?" 


242    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Not  yet.  The  first  mate  was  out  with  four  of 
the  crew,  but  they  could  find  nothing  wide  enough," 
answered  Captain  Marshall. 

The  master  of  the  bark  thought  he  spoke  the 
truth,  but  he  was  mistaken.  Unknown  to  the  cap- 
tain, the  first  mate  had  found  a  passage,  rather 
twisting  in  shape,  but  perfectly  safe.  It  was  near 
the  northern  end  of  the  reef — a  locality  Captain 
Marshall  had  not  visited.  One  of  the  sailors  who 
had  been  out  with  the  mate  also  knew  of  the 
passage,  but  Paul  Shepley  had  pledged  him  to 
secrecy  for  the  time  being. 

While  the  boys  and  Billy  Dill  were  in  the  cabin 
of  the  Stormy  Petrel  relating  their  experiences,  an 
interesting  conversation  was  going  on  in  another 
part  of  the  ship,  between  the  first  mate  and  Jasper 
Van  Blott. 

"I  have  made  an  important  discovery,"  said 
Shepley,  in  a  low  tone,  so  that  no  others  might  hear. 
"I  have  found  a  safe  passageway  out  of  this  har- 
bor." 

"Did  you  tell  the  old  man?"  demanded  the 
former  supercargo,  quickly. 

"No;  I  told  him  that  there  wasn't  any  opening 
wide  enough  for  the  bark." 

"Good !  Now,  if  we  can  only  arrange  this  other 
matter,  Shepley,  we'll  make  a  fine  thing  of  this," 
went  on  Jasper  Van  Blott. 

"I  don't  know  about  this  other  thing,  as  you 


A  MAP  AND  A  PLOT  243 

call  it,"  grumbled  the  first  mate.  "I'll  be  running 
a  tremendous  risk." 

"Oh,  it  will  be  perfectly  safe." 

"Don't  you  know  that  mutiny  on  the  high  seas 
is  punishable  by  death?" 

"I  do — if  you  get  caught.  But  you  won't  get 
caught.  Besides  that,  please  to  remember  that  I 
am  not  going  to  suffer  for  this  cargo  affair  alone. 
If  I  have  to  stand  trial,  you'll  have  to  do  the 
same." 

"Then  you  really  mean  to  drag  me  into  it,  eh?" 
said  the  first  mate,  sourly. 

"Unless  you  consent  to  my  plan.  Why,  man,  it's 
dead  easy,"  continued  the  former  supercargo, 
earnestly.  "I  know  that  at  least  four  of  the  sailors 
will  stand  in  with  us  from  the  start,  and  we  can 
easily  win  over  the  others  by  the  promise  of  a  big 
reward.  All  we  have  got  to  do  is  to  get  Captain 
Marshall,  Billy  Dill,  and  those  three  boys  ashore, 
and  then  sail  away  for  some  distant  port.  On  the 
way  we  can  change  the  name  of  the  bark  and  I'll  fix 
up  the  clearance  papers,  and  there  you  are.  You 
and  I  can  become  equal  owners,  and  we  can  go  into 
the  regular  Australian-New  Zealand  trade  and 
make  a  barrel  of  money  in  a  few  years." 

"But  supposing  some  of  the  men  raise  a  row  ?" 

"We  won't  give  them  a  chance,  until  we  are  out 
on  the  ocean.  We  can  tell  them — after  the  cap- 
tain's crowd  is  gone — that  you  have  orders  to  try 


244    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

to  clear  the  reef.  When  we  are  on  the  ocean,  I 
don't  think  it  will  be  so  hard  to  manage  things. 
We  can  arm  ourselves  and  lock  up  all  the  other 
weapons,  and  tell  the  men  they  shall  have  big 
money  if  they  ask  no  questions  and  stick  to  their 
duty,"  added  Jasper  Van  Blott. 

"Well,  how  do  you  propose  to  get  that  crowd 
ashore  ?  They  may  not  happen  to  go  of  their  own 
free  will." 

"I  think  I  can  manage  that,  sooner  or  later.  The 
main  thing  is,  we  must  watch  our  chances  and  strike 
as  soon  as  the  right  moment  arrives.  Now  then, 
what  do  you  say,  Shepley?" 

The  first  mate  hesitated,  and  an  argument  lasting 
a  full  hour  ensued,  during  which  the  former  super- 
cargo's plot  was  discussed  from  every  possible 
point  of  view.  At  last  the  first  mate  agreed  to  do 
as  Jasper  Van  Blott  wanted,  and  then  the  two  sepa- 
rated, to  await  the  time  for  making  their  first  move. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

MAROONED 

On  the  following  morning  Captain  Marshall 
went  out  once  more  to  look  for  a  passageway 
through  the  reef.  Dave  accompanied  him,  and  so 
did  Billy  Dill.  In  the  meantime  Roger  and  Phil 
rowed  ashore,  to  see  if  they  could  find  any  more 
traces  of  the  natives. 

The  captain  and  Dave  had  been  out  about  an 
hour,  when  they  noticed  a  small  boat  coming 
toward  them,  containing  two  sailors  and  the  first 
mate. 

"Captain  Marshall,  you  are  wanted  on  shore 
at  once !"  cried  Paul  Shepley,  when  within  hearing 
distance.  "Those  two  boys  just  sent  word  to  the 
ship  by  a  native.  They  said  to  bring  young  Porter 
and  Dill  along." 

"They  must  have  discovered  something!"  cried 
Dave,  quickly.    "Oh,  let  us  go,  by  all  means!" 

"I  will,"  answered  the  master  of  the  Stormy 
Petrel.     "Did  they  say  where  they  were?" 

"Near  the  interior  of  the  island,  I  believe,"  an- 
swered the  mate. 

No  more  was  said,  and,  winding  up  his  lead  line, 
245 


246    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

the  captain  had  the  rowboat  turned  around  and 
headed  for  the  island.  In  the  meantime  the  first 
mate  returned  to  the  bark.  Once  on  the  deck  of 
the  ship  he  was  quickly  joined  by  the  former  super- 
cargo. 

"What  did  he  say?"  asked  Jasper  Van  Blott, 
anxiously. 

"Said  he'd  go." 

"Then  we  must  lose  no  time  in  getting  up  the 
anchors.    Luckily  the  breeze  is  just  right." 

"Wait  until  they  are  ashore  and  have  disap- 
peared," answered  the  first  mate,  nervously.  He 
was  really  a  coward  at  heart,  and  now  fairly  under 
the  thumb  of  Van  Blott. 

It  took  but  a  few  minutes  for  the  captain,  Dave, 
and  Billy  Dill  to  gain  the  stretch  of  sand.  Then 
those  on  the  Stormy  Petrel  saw  them  draw  the 
small  craft  up  to  a  safe  place  and  disappear  in 
among  the  trees. 

"Now  then,  act  as  quickly  as  you  can,"  said 
Jasper  Van  Blott. 

An  order  was  issued  for  the  sailors  to  come  on 
deck,  and  all  did  so,  and  the  second  mate,  a  young 
man  named  Bob  Sanders,  also  appeared.  Then 
Paul  Shepley  issued  orders  to  hoist  the  anchors  and 
raise  some  of  the  sails. 

"What  does  this  mean,  Mr.  Shepley?"  asked  the 
second  mate,  in  surprise. 

"The  captain  has  found  a  passageway  and  wants 


MAROONED  247 

me  to  take  the  ship  out  and  around  to  the  other 
side  of  the  island,"  replied  the  first  mate.  "He 
wants  us  to  be  lively,  too." 

Bob  Sanders  was  mystified,  but,  as  he  was  not  on 
particularly  good  terms  with  the  first  mate,  he 
asked  no  more  questions.  Soon  the  sails  were  up, 
and  Paul  Shepley  himself  steered  the  bark  toward 
the  passageway  he  had  discovered. 

"You  are  sure  of  what  you  are  doing?"  asked 
Jasper  Van  Blott,  coming  to  the  wheel.  "We 
don't  want  to  strike  and  go  to  the  bottom." 

"I  wish  I  was  as  sure  of  the  future  as  I  am  of 
the  passageway,"  answered  the  first  mate,  some- 
what grimly. 

"Oh,  don't  worry  about  the  future,"  answered 
the  former  supercargo,  lightly.  "In  a  few  days 
we'll  have  everything  in  apple-pie  order." 

There  was  a  good  breeze,  and  the  bark  cleared 
the  reef  with  but  little  difficulty.  Then  Paul  Shep- 
ley had  all  the  sails  set,  and  soon  the  Stormy  Petrel 
was  leaving  the  island  far  behind. 

In  the  meantime  Captain  Marshall,  Dave,  and 
the  old  tar  were  looking  everywhere  for  Phil  and 
Roger.  They  dove  straight  into  the  jungle  and 
called  out  as  loudly  as  they  could.  But  no  answer 
came  back. 

"It  is  queer  that  we  can't  locate  them,"  was 
Dave's  comment.  "If  they  wanted  us,  I  should 
think  they  would  be  watching  out,  wouldn't  you?" 


248    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"Perhaps  they  are  in  trouble,"  answered  the  cap- 
tain, gravely. 

He  fired  his  pistol  as  a  signal,  and  at  last  came 
an  answering  shot  from  the  lower  end  of  the  island. 
At  once  they  hurried  in  that  direction,  only  to  find 
themselves  cut  off  by  a  stretch  of  impassable  marsh 
land. 

"Reckon  as  how  we'll  have  to  go  around,"  ob- 
served Billy  Dill.  "If  we  try  to  go  through  thet 
we'll  git  stuck,  fer  sartin !" 

Going  around  was  not  so  easy,  and  it  took  them 
nearly  half  an  hour  to  cover  a  mile.  Then  the  cap- 
tain discharged  his  pistol  once  more,  and  a  minute 
later  came  an  answering  shot  but  a  short  distance 
away. 

"I  see  them — at  the  top  of  the  hill  I"  cried  Dave, 
and,  looking  ahead,  the  others  discovered  Phil  and 
Roger  at  the  top  of  the  slight  rise  of  ground,  wav- 
ing their  handkerchiefs  to  attract  attention.  Soon 
the  two  parties  were  together. 

"What's  the  news?"  cried  Captain  Marshall, 
looking  around  to  see  if  anybody  else  was  present. 

"No  news,"  answered  Phil.  He  gazed  at  them 
curiously.  "What's  up?  You  look  rather  ex- 
cited!" 

"Didn't  you  send  for  us?"  gasped  Dave. 

"Send  for  you?  What  do  you  mean?"  queried 
Roger. 

"The  first  mate  said  you  sent  a  native  to  the 


MAROONED  249 

bark,  asking  us  to  come  to  you,"  said  Captain 
Marshall. 

"We  sent  nobody — we  have  seen  no  natives  to- 
day." 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  each  looked 
blankly  at  the  others. 

"I  can't  understand  this,"  said  Dave,  slowly. 
"Mr.  Shepley  certainly  delivered  that  message." 

"It  is  a  trick  of  some  sort!"  burst  out  Captain 
Marshall.  "The  very  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to 
get  back  to  the  vessel  without  delay. 

The  others  thought  so,  too,  and  in  a  moment 
more  all  were  on  their  way  to  the  shore,  hurrying 
through  the  undergrowth  as  rapidly  as  the  bushes 
and  vines  would  permit.  Phil  and  Roger  had 
managed  to  shoot  two  small  animals  that  looked 
like  hares,  but  that  was  all. 

At  last  they  came  out  on  the  sands,  and  a  shout 
of  dismay  went  up. 

"The  ship  is  gone!" 

"The  Stormy  Petrel  has  sailed  away  and  left 
us!" 

The  boys  and  the  old  sailor  turned  to  Captain 
Marshall,  whose  face  had  turned  white.  Now  it 
grew  dark  and  stern. 

"How  could  they  get  out  of  the  harbor?"  ques- 
tioned Dave. 

"Shepley  must  have  found  a  passageway,"  an- 
swered the  captain. 


250    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"But  where  has  the  ship  gone  to?"  queried  Phil. 
"I  can't  see  her  anywhere." 

Instead  of  replying,  the  captain  of  the  Stormy 
Petrel  clenched  his  hands  and  compressed  his  lips. 
He  was  doing  some  deep  thinking. 

"I  must  say,  this  looks  to  me  as  if  somebody  had 
run  off  with  the  ship!"  declared  the  senator's 
son. 

"And  that  is  just  what  they  have  done!"  cried 
the  captain.    "Oh,  the  rascals!  the  scoundrels!    If 

I  ever  catch  them "     He  could  not  finish,  so 

great  was  his  rage. 

"Run  off  with  the  ship !"  burst  out  Dave.  "How 
could  they  do  that?  Do  you  think  there  was  a 
regular  mutiny?" 

"There  may  have  been — anyway,  the  bark  is 
gone — and  we  are  left  to  shift  for  ourselves." 

"I  think  I  see  through  it,"  said  Phil.  "The  first 
mate  and  Van  Blott  have  hatched  this  up  between 
them.  I  know  they  were  as  thick  as  peas — in  fact, 
I  suspect  Shepley  helped  the  supercargo  to  hide 
away  on  board.  They  must  have  bought  over  the 
crew  and  Mr.  Sanders." 

"I  don't  think  they  could  buy  over  Bob  Sanders," 
declared  the  captain.  "I  know  him  too  well.  He  is 
very  quiet,  but  I'd  trust  him  with  almost  anything. 
But  I  can't  say  as  much  for  all  the  crew.  Shepley 
got  some  of  the  men  to  ship,  and  he  most  likely 
knew  whom  he  was  getting." 


MAROONED  251 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  asked 
Roger. 

"I  don't  exactly  know  what  to  do,  yet,  lad.  We 
are  marooned,  that  is  all  there  is  to  it.  And  it 
doesn't  look  as  if  they  had  left  us  anything  to  live 
on,  either,"  added  the  captain,  casting  his  eyes 
along  the  shore. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  they  have  deserted  us?" 
cried  Dave. 

"Doesn't  it  look  like  it?" 

"And  stolen  the  bark?" 

"Yes." 

Dave  drew  a  long  breath.  Here  was  another 
set-back,  of  which  he  had  not  dreamed.  If  the 
Stormy  Petrel  had  really  sailed  away,  not  to  return, 
what  were  they  to  do,  and  when  would  they  get  a 
chance  to  leave  the  lonely  island? 

"This  is  positively  the  worst  yet!"  groaned 
Roger.  "The  fellows  who  would  do  such  a  thing 
ought  to  be — be  hanged !  And  they  haven't  left  us 
a  thing!" 

"Let  us  separate  and  see  if  we  can  sight  the 
bark,"  said  the  captain,  and  this  was  done,  one 
party  going  to  the  upper  end  of  the  island  and  the 
other  to  the  lower.  But  not  a  trace  of  the  missing 
vessel  was  to  be  seen. 

It  was  a  decidedly  sober  party  that  gathered  on 
the  sands  two  hours  later  to  discuss  the  situation 
and  decide  upon  what  was  to  be  done.    Here  they 


252    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

were,  marooned  on  a  deserted  island,  with  no  food 
and  but  little  shelter,  and  with  only  two  pistols  and 
a  shotgun  between  them.  It  was  certainly  not  a 
situation  to  be  envied. 

"I  used  to  think,  when  I  was  a  small  boy,  that 
I'd  like  to  play  Robinson  Crusoe,"  remarked 
Roger.  "But  I've  changed  my  mind,  and  I'd  much 
rather  be  back  on  the  ship." 

"Humph !  If  you  are  going  to  talk  that  way, 
what  will  you  say  if  we  have  to  stay  here  weeks,  or 
months,  or  maybe  years?"  asked  Phil. 

"Gracious !"  burst  out  Dave.  "You  don't  think 
we'll  have  to  stay  here  years,  do  you  ?" 

"We'll  have  to  stay  until  we  can  git  away,"  was 
the  sage  remark  of  Billy  Dill.  "Captain,  are  we 
in  the  track  o'  any  ships?" 

Captain  Marshall  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"I  don't  think  we  are.  That  storm  blew  us  far 
out  of  our  course.  I  doubt  if  a  ship  comes  this  way 
once  in  three  months." 

"There,  what  did  I  tell  you !"  cried  Phil.  "But 
don't  think  I  want  to  stay,"  he  added,  quickly.  "I 
am  just  as  anxious  to  get  away  as  any  one,  and 
anxious  to  regain  my  father's  ship,  too.  Why, 
to  lose  her  would  mean  a  serious  loss  to  my 
father!" 

They  talked  the  matter  over  until  nightfall,  but 
without  reaching  any  satisfactory  conclusion.  Not 
one  of  the  party  could  bring  himself  to  think  that 


MAROONED  253 

he  would  really  have  to  stay  on  the  island  for  any 
great  length  of  time. 

"If  we  do  have  to  stay,  we'll  havetorassle  around 
fer  somethin'  to  eat,"  remarked  Billy  Dill.  "The 
mean  sharks !  They  might  at  least  have  left  us  a 
barrel  o'  salt  horse  an'  some  canned  goods — an'  a 
little  tobacco,"  he  added,  dolefully.  His  pipe  was 
empty  and  so  was  his  pouch,  and  this  added  the  last 
drop  to  his  misery. 

As  night  came  on  they  gathered  some  driftwood 
and  lit  a  campfire,  not  because  they  were  cold,  but 
because  it  looked  more  cheerful,  and  because  it 
also  helped  to  keep  away  some  obnoxious  insects 
that  had  appeared.  Over  the  fire  they  cooked  the 
game  Roger  and  Phil  had  shot,  and  made  a  supper 
of  this  and  some  crackers  the  boys  had  been  carry- 
ing in  their  pockets.  Then  they  sat  down  to  talk 
the  matter  over  once  more.  As  the  night  advanced, 
the  bright  stars  bespangled  the  heavens  and  all 
became  perfectly  calm  and  quiet.  Tired  out  by 
what  had  passed,  one  after  another  sought  a  com- 
fortable resting-place,  and  soon  all  were  sound 
asleep. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

THE    COMING   OF   THE    NATIVES 

When  Dave  awoke,  it  was  with  a  start.  The 
wind  was  blowing  half  a  gale  and  the  rain  was 
falling. 

"What  a  change  since  last  night,"  he  murmured 
to  himself,  as  he  sat  up.  "Hello,  are  you  up  al- 
ready?" 

"I  am,"  answered  Billy  Dill.  "Thought  as  how 
I'd  better  keep  the  fire  a-goin',  if  it's  goin'  to  storm. 
This  ain't  so  nice,  is  it?" 

"I  should  say  not,  indeed.  My,  now  the  wind  is 
rising!" 

The  others  soon  roused  up,  and  all  gathered 
under  the  shelter  of  some  dense  tropical  trees  and 
vines.  Soon  the  rain  was  pouring  down  in  tor- 
rents, shutting  out  the  landscape  on  all  sides. 

"Well,  in  one  way,  it's  a  good  thing  the  Stormy 
Petrel  got  out  of  the  harbor,"  remarked  Captain 
Marshall.  "This  wind  might  make  her  shift,  and 
either  throw  her  up  on  the  island  or  on  to  the  reef." 

They  could  do  nothing  with  the  fire,  and  so 
allowed  it  to  die  out,  and  crawled  still  further  into 
the  jungle  in  an  endeavor  to  keep  dry.     But  the 

254 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  NATIVES      255 

rain  followed  them,  until  each  one  of  the  party  was 
about  soaked. 

"This  is  another  one  of  the  comforts  of  a  Robin- 
son Crusoe  life,"  remarked  Phil.  "Soaking  wet, 
and  nothing  to  eat.  Oh,  don't  I  wish  I  was  on  the 
bark  again  and  had  hold  of  those  mutineers!" 

The  rain  and  wind  kept  up  for  the  best  part  of 
that  day.  There  was  but  little  thunder  and  light- 
ning, and  at  nightfall  the  storm  died  away,  al- 
though the  wind  still  kept  up  at  a  lively  rate.  Dur- 
ing the  afternoon  they  managed  to  find  a  turtle  in 
a  hollow,  and,  after  turning  the  creature  over, 
killed  it  and  cooked  it  in  its  own  shell.  The  meal 
was  not  particularly  appetizing,  but  all  were  ex- 
ceedingly hungry  and  partook  of  it  without  a 
murmur. 

"To-morrow  we  must  gather  some  yams  and 
some  plantains,  and  also  do  some  fishing,"  said  the 
captain.  "We  might  go  hunting,  too,  but  I  would 
rather  save  our  ammunition  for  emergencies." 

To  keep  from  taking  cold  in  their  wet  clothing, 
all  slept  close  to  the  campfire  that  night,  and  early 
in  the  morning  they  hung  most  of  their  garments 
out  in  the  bright  sunshine  to  dry.  Fishing  proved 
good,  and  the  boys  and  Billy  Dill  caught  over  a 
score  of  good-sized  fish,  and  also  discovered  a  bed 
of  oysters,  which,  as  Roger  declared,  "were  not 
half  bad,  even  if  they  weren't  particularly  good." 
In  the  meantime  the  captain,  who  knew  not  a  little 


256    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

about  tropical  life,  tramped  around  and  found 
some  bread-fruit  and  some  luscious  berries,  which 
he  declared  were  perfectly  good  to  eat. 

"This  solves  the  question  of  food,  at  least  for  the 
present,"  said  Dave.  "Not  a  very  extensive  list  of 
things  to  eat,  but  much  better  than  nothing  at  all." 

"What  would  the  boys  of  Oak  Hall  say  if  they 
could  see  us !"  asked  Roger. 

"We'll  certainly  have  a  tale  to  tell — if  we  ever 
get  back  to  tell  it,"  returned  Phil. 

Having  nothing  in  particular  to  do,  they  took 
their  time  about  preparing  the  next  meal,  and,  when 
it  was  done,  it  proved  to  be  a  regular  spread.  Some 
of  the  fish  made  particularly  good  eating,  and  the 
berries  topped  the  repast  off  in  good  style. 

"I  do  not  believe  that  the  Stormy  Petrel  will 
come  back  to  this  harbor,"  said  Captain  Marshall. 
"And  that  being  so,  I  think  we  had  best  take  our- 
selves to  the  other  side  of  the  island,  to  those  log 
huts  and  shacks  you  mentioned.  That  is,  most 
likely,  the  spot  where  the  natives  land  and  where 
ships  may  stop.  We  can  put  up  a  flag  of  distress, 
and,  after  that,  there  will  be  nothing  to  do  but  to 
wait  and  make  the  best  of  it." 

"Shall  you  leave  the  rowboats  here?"  asked 
Dave. 

"We  can  leave  one  boat  here  and  row  around 
the  island  in  the  other.  We  can  carry  the  craft  to 
some  point  beyond  the  reef." 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  NATIVES      257 

This  advice  was  followed,  and  beyond  the  reef 
line  the  ocean  was  found  to  be  comparatively  quiet, 
despite  the  storm  of  the  day  before.  All  entered 
the  rowboat,  and  the  captain  and  Billy  Dill  took 
the  oars,  and  the  voyage  to  the  other  side  of  the 
island  was  begun. 

By  the  end  of  the  day  they  had  reached  the  log 
houses,  and  they  cleaned  out  the  larger  of  the  two 
and  gave  to  it  as  much  of  a  homelike  appearance 
as  possible.  Then  they  set  to  work  to  gather  all 
the  driftwood  possible,  for  they  had  nothing  with 
which  to  cut  firewood.  The  boys  fell  to  fishing 
once  more,  and  Phil  began  to  manufacture  a  snare, 
with  which  he  hoped  to  trap  some  small  animals 
that  had  been  discovered  at  a  distance. 

Another  whole  day  passed  by  slowly,  and  they 
began  to  feel  a  little  more  settled,  when,  in  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon,  Billy  Dill,  who  was  out 
in  the  rowboat  trying  to  catch  some  big  fish,  set  up 
a  loud  shout. 

"What  is  it?"  demanded  Captain  Marshall,  who 
was  busily  at  work  breaking  up  some  of  the  drift- 
wood. 

"I  see  a  big  canoe  comin',  loaded  with  niggers!" 
announced  the  old  sailor. 

This  news  brought  all  to  the  shore  immediately, 
and  they  watched  the  approach  of  the  canoe  with 
much  interest.  It  was  all  of  twenty-five  feet  in 
length  and  manned  by  twelve  dark-colored  men,  six 


258    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

on  each  side.  The  natives  in  the  craft  numbered, 
all  told,  nineteen,  and  some  of  them  had  guns, 
while  others  had  bows  and  arrows  and  long  spears. 
Each  man  had  also  a  long  and  sharp  knife  stuck  in 
his  girdle. 

"Do  you  think  they  will  be  friendly?"  asked 
Dave,  in  a  low  tone. 

"I  hope  so,"  answered  the  captain.  "They  have 
nothing  to  gain  by  being  otherwise." 

When  the  natives  discovered  the  whites,  they 
stopped  rowing  and  set  up  an  animated  jabbering 
among  themselves.  They  looked  around,  thinking 
a  ship  must  be  close  by,  and,  finding  none,  were 
much  astonished. 

"Hello !"  called  out  Captain  Marshall,  waving 
a  welcome.     "Glad  to  see  you!" 

To  this  the  natives  did  not  answer.  But  the 
canoe  was  sent  closer  and  finally  beached,  and  the 
majority  of  the  black  men  leaped  ashore,  each 
carrying  his  weapons  with  him. 

"How  do  you  do?"  went  on  the  captain,  extend- 
ing his  hand  and  smiling.  "Glad  to  see  you.  Can 
anybody  speak  English?" 

At  the  question,  one  of  the  natives,  a  short,  thick- 
set fellow  with  a  peculiarly  flat  nose,  came  to  the 
front  and  shook  hands. 

"Soko  speak  Inglees,"  he  said,  and  grinned. 
"Soko  once  on  Inglees  ship." 

"I  am  glad  to  know  you,  Soko,"  replied  the  cap- 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  NATIVES      259 

tain.  "I  am  Captain  Marshall,  of  the  ship  Stormy 
Petrel.    What  island  is  this  ?" 

"Dis  Yam-kolo  Island,"  answered  Soko,  still 
grinning.  "How  you  come  dis  way?  Where  he 
ship?" 

"Some  rascals  have  stolen  my  ship.  She  is  a 
line-looking  bark.  She  was  here  a  few  days  ago. 
Have  you  seen  her?" 

"No  see  ship,  no — no  ship,  so  many  days,"  and 
the  native  held  up  four  fingers,  all  stumpy  and  not 
overly  clean.  "Steal  ship  on  you?  Big  thief, 
yes!" 

"You  are  right.    Where  do  you  come  from?" 

"Come  from  Waponu.    Dat  on  Sobago  Island." 

"Yes,  I  have  heard  of  the  place."  The  captain 
turned  to  the  others.  "It  is  a  native  village  some 
ten  miles  from  the  town  for  which  the  Stormy 
Petrel  was  bound,"  he  explained. 

"Then  perhaps  they  can  take  us  to  Sobago,"  said 
Dave,  eagerly. 

"Perhaps  they  can,"  answered  the  captain.  "But 
it  must  be  a  long  trip  in  such  a  canoe  as  that." 

"Tell  me,"  said  Dave,  to  the  native.  "Do  you 
come  here  often  ?" 

"Sometime,  not  many  time,"  answered  Soko, 
still  grinning.  He  was  evidently  of  a  sunny  dispo- 
sition. 

"Did  you  ever  come  here  with  a  man  named 
Dunston  Porter?" 


260    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

At  this  question  the  native  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  looked  perplexed. 

"I  mean  this  man,"  went  on  the  youth,  and,  tak- 
ing the  native  by  the  hand,  led  him  into  the  hut 
and  up  to  the  map  on  the  wall.  Instantly  the  face 
of  Soko  brightened. 

"Yes,  Soko  know,"  he  said.    "Dat  man  come,  so 

many  time  here "     He  held  up  three  fingers. 

"Look  in  ground,  dig,  not  can  find  much,  no.  Go 
back  to  Sobago,  so."  And  he  made  a  dejected  face, 
at  which  Roger  and  Phil  had  to  laugh. 

"He  means  Mr.  Porter  didn't  locate  the  treas- 
ure," said  the  senator's  son. 

"Is  that  man  in  Sobago  now?"  went  on  Dave, 
paying  no  attention  to  his  chum's  remark. 

"Yes,  him  at  big  town,  Nanpi!" 

"Good!  Then  I  would  like  to  get  to  Nanpi  just 
as  soon  as  I  can,"  cried  Dave,  enthusiastically. 
"Will  you  take  me  there?  I  can  pay  you  well,"  he 
added,  for  he  still  had  his  money  belt  and  cash  with 
him. 

"Yes,  can  take  to  Nanpi,"  answered  the  native. 

After  that  he  explained  that  he  and  his  com- 
panions had  come  to  the  island  to  hunt  for  some 
rare  birds  and  for  turtles.  They  were  quite  willing 
to  return  to  Sobago  Island  immediately,  if  paid 
for  so  doing.  A  bargain  was  struck,  and  it  was 
decided  that  the  voyage  should  be  begun  in  the 
morning.    In  the  meantime  all  hands  were  to  catch 


THE  COMING  OF  THE  NATIVES      261 

some  fish  and  cook  them,  and  also  gather  in  a 
supply  of  other  eatables.  The  natives  had  a  num- 
ber of  hollow  reeds  with  them,  and  these  were  filled 
with  fresh  water,  just  previous  to  setting  out.  It 
was  calculated  that,  weather  permitting,  the  dis- 
tance would  be  covered  in  three  days. 

"These  fellows  know  how  to  handle  their  big 
canoes  very  well,"  explained  Captain  Marshall. 
"They  go  out  hundreds  of  miles,  and  sometimes 
weather  the  worst  of  storms.  Occasionally,  of 
course,  they  get  swept  away,  but  not  often.  They 
sail  altogether  by  the  sun  and  stars,  and  can  strike 
almost  as  straight  a  course  as  if  they  were  using  a 
compass." 

Dave  questioned  Soko  further  about  Dunston 
Porter,  but  could  learn  little,  outside  of  the  fact 
that  the  man  was  a  treasure  hunter  and  had  paid 
very  well  for  what  was  done  for  him.  Soko  added, 
however,  that  he  thought  the  man  expected  to 
remain  at  Sobago  for  some  time. 

The  boys  could  sleep  but  little  that  night,  so 
anxious  were  they  concerning  the  trip  before  them. 
They  were  up  at  dawn,  but,  early  as  it  was,  found 
the  natives  ahead  of  them.  A  hasty  breakfast  was 
had  by  all,  the  things  to  be  taken  along  were  packed 
in  the  bow  and  stern  of  the  canoe,  and  shortly 
after  sunrise  the  craft  was  pushed  from  the  shore, 
whites  and  natives  scrambled  in,  and  the  start  from 
the  lonely  island  was  made. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

THE   RETAKING   OF   THE    "STORMY   PETREL" 

For  the  whole  of  that  day  the  natives  kept  at  the 
sweeps  of  the  long  canoe,  one  set  of  rowers  reliev- 
ing the  other.  The  whites  were  willing  to  assist, 
but  Soko  said  the  natives  could  get  along  best  alone, 
they  having  their  own  peculiar  manner  of  handling 
the  craft. 

The  weather  remained  fair,  with  only  a  bit  of 
a  breeze  blowing,  and  the  bosom  of  the  ocean  was 
as  calm  as  they  could  wish.  They  were  soon  out  of 
sight  of  the  island,  and  then  all  they  could  behold 
was  the  sky  above  and  the  sparkling  waters  on 
every  side. 

"It  must  be  terrible  to  be  lost  on  the  ocean," 
remarked  Phil,  as  he  gazed  around.  "I  don't 
wonder  that  men  go  mad,  after  they  have  been 
out  days  and  days." 

"And  think  of  having  nothing  to  eat  or  to 
drink,"  said  Dave.  "Ugh!  it  gives  a  fellow  the 
shivers  to  think  of  it!" 

At  noon  the  whole  party  partook  of  a  lunch, 
and  toward  nightfall  had  supper.  Then  the  whites 
went  to  .sleep,  and  so  did  half  of  the  natives,  the 

262 


RETAKING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"  263 

remaining  blacks  keeping  at  the  sweeps,  guiding 
themselves  by  the  stars,  now  that  the  sun  had  gone 
down. 

When  the  boys  awoke  they  were  dismayed  to  see 
that  a  mist  covered  the  sea. 

"Hello  !  I  didn't  expect  this  I"  cried  the  senator's 
son.  "Why,  a  fellow  can't  see  a  hundred  feet  in 
any  direction." 

"What  are  the  natives  going  to  do  now?"  asked 
Dave  of  Captain  Marshall,  who  had  been  awake 
for  some  time. 

"Soko  says  they  must  rest  and  wait,"  answered 
the  captain.  "He  cannot  go  ahead,  for  he  knows 
not  in  what  direction  to  steer." 

"I've  got  a  pocket  compass!"  cried  Phil,  bring- 
ing it  forth.  "How  odd  that  I  didn't  think  of  it 
before." 

The  captain  took  the  compass  and  showed  it  to 
the  native  who  could  speak  English.  He  had  seen 
such  things  before,  and,  after  a  short  talk  with  the 
master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel,  set  the  others  to  using 
the  sweeps  as  before. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  of  the  forenoon  that  one 
of  the  natives,  who  was  watching  in  the  bow, 
uttered  a  short  cry.  At  once  those  at  the  sweeps 
stopped  pulling. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Captain  Marshall,  quickly. 

"Big  ship  over  dare!"  announced  Soko,  a 
moment  later. 


264    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

All  of  the  whites  looked  in  the  direction  pointed 
out,  and  through  the  mist  saw  a  large  vessel  drift- 
ing along,  the  sails  flapping  idly  against  the  masts. 
The  wheel  was  lashed  fast,  and  nobody  was  in 
sight  on  the  deck. 

"The  Stormy  Petrel!"  ejaculated  Captain  Mar- 
shall. 

"Are  you  sure?"  asked  Dave  and  Phil,  in  a 
breath. 

"Sure  it's  the  bark,"  cried  Billy  Dill.  "Say,  but 
this  is  great  luck,  ain't  it?"  and  his  face  brightened 
up.  "Now  we  can  teach  them  dirty  mutineers  a 
lesson." 

"Dat  you  ship?"  asked  Soko. 

"It  is,"  answered  Captain  Marshall.  "See  here, 
Soko,"  he  went  on,  "can  I  depend  upon  your  help- 
ing me  ?  I  will  pay  you  and  your  men  for  whatever 
you  do." 

The  native  shugged  his  ebony  shoulders  and  then 
consulted  with  his  fellow-tribesmen.  All  decided 
that  they  would  aid  the  captain,  providing  he  would 
give  them  each  a  piece  of  silver  "so  big,"  pointing 
out  the  size  of  a  trade  dollar.  Captain  Marshall 
agreed  on  the  spot,  and  preparations  were  made 
for  boarding  the  bark. 

"It  is  queer  that  nobody  is  in  sight !"  remarked 
Phil,  as  the  canoe  drew  closer. 

"Somebody  is  coming  on  deck  now !"  cried  Dave, 
in  a  low  tone,  and  Paul  Shepley  appeared,  followed 


RETAKING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"  265 

by  Jasper  Van  Blott  and,  close  behind  him,  one  of 
the  sailors. 

"Hello  !  what's  this?"  sang  out  the  first  mate,  on 
catching  sight  of  the  canoe. 

"Captain  Marshall  and  the  others!"  muttered 
the  former  supercargo.  "Hi !  keep  away  from 
here !"  he  roared. 

"Surrender,  you  villains!"  called  out  the  cap- 
tain. "What  do  you  mean  by  running  off  with  my 
ship  in  this  fashion?" 

"You  keep  off !"  warned  Paul  Shepley,  without 
answering  the  question.     "Keep  off,  I  tell  you!" 

"We'll  fire  on  you,  if  you  don't  keep  off,"  called 
the  former  supercargo,  and  he  brought  forth  a  big 
pistol. 

"Be  careful,  cap'n,  or  somebody  will  git  shot!" 
whispered  Billy  Dill.  "Those  fellers  look  like  they 
was  des'prit!" 

"Don't  you  dare  to  shoot!"  called  out  Captain 
Marshall.  "The  first  man  who  fires  shall  swing 
from  the  yardarm !" 

The  loud  talking  had  brought  several  sailors  to 
the  deck,  and  they  were  followed  by  the  second 
mate,  who  stared  at  the  canoe  and  its  occupants  as 
if  he  could  not  believe  his  eyes. 

"Hello,  Captain  Marshall!"  sang  out  Bob  San- 
ders.    "I  am  mighty  glad  you  have  come." 

"Then  you  are  not  in  this  mutiny,  Sanders?" 

"Not  by  a  jugful !    They  tried  to  buy  me  up,  but 


266    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

I  wouldn't  consent.  Podders,  Diski,  and  McNabb 
are  not  in  it,  either." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  Sanders,  take  control  of 
the  ship  until  I  get  aboard." 

aHe  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind !"  yelled  Jasper 
Van  Blott,  and  was  about  to  turn  on  the  second 
mate,  when  the  latter  hit  him  a  blow  in  the  ear, 
sending  him  headlong  to  the  deck. 

"McNabb !  Podders  I"  called  the  second  mate. 
"Grab  Mr.  Shepley!" 

The  sailors  called  upon  understood,  and  before 
the  first  mate  could  turn,  one  tar  had  him  from 
behind,  so  that  he  could  not  raise  his  arms.  Then 
the  other  seized  a  pistol  and,  turning,  faced  the 
crew  with  the  weapon. 

The  turn  of  affairs  had  been  so  sudden  that 
Shepley  and  Van  Blott  were  taken  completely  by 
surprise,  as  were  likewise  the  sailors  who  had  sided 
with  the  rascals,  and,  for  the  moment,  none  of  them 
knew  exactly  what  to  do.  In  the  meantime  the 
canoe  bumped  alongside  of  the  Stormy  Petrel,  and, 
catching  hold  of  a  trailing  rope  thrown  overboard 
by  the  sailor  named  Diski,  Captain  Marshall 
hauled  himself  to  the  deck,  followed  by  Billy  Dill 
and  the  boys. 

"Do  you  surrender?"  demanded  the  captain, 
striding  up  to  the  first  mate,  revolver  in  hand. 

"Ye-yes!"  burst  out  Shepley.  "It's — it's  all  a 
mistake,  Captain  Marshall — all  a  mistake!" 


RETAKING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"  267 

"I  reckon  it  was !"  answered  the  captain,  grimly. 
"What  about  you,  Van  Blott?"  And  he  turned  on 
the  former  supercargo,  who  was  struggling  to  his 
feet. 

"I  suppose  I've  got  to  give  in,"  muttered  Jasper 
Van  Blott. 

"And  what  about  you  men?"  demanded  Captain 
Marshall,  turning  his  stern  eyes  on  the  portion  of 
the  crew  that  had  mutinied. 

"We're  with  you,  cap'n,"  said  one,  humbly. 
"Mr.  Shepley  led  us  into  this,  without  us  knowin' 
what  we  was  a-doin'.    Ain't  that  so,  mates?" 

"That's  so,"  said  the  others,  humbly. 

"Are  you  willing  to  obey  me,  after  this?" 

"Yes !  yes !"  came  in  an  eager  chorus. 

After  this  a  long  talk  took  place,  and  Jasper 
Van  Blott  and  Paul  Shepley  were  placed  in  irons 
and  conducted  to  a  closet  in  the  bow  of  the  ship, 
used  for  the  storage  of  oil  and  lanterns.  The  place 
was  given  a  rough  cleaning,  and  then  the  pair  were 
locked  inside,  Captain  Marshall  putting  the  key  in 
his  pocket.  Both  of  the  prisoners  wanted  to  pro- 
test, but  the  master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel  would  not 
listen. 

"You  can  do  your  talking  later,  when  I  have  time 
to  listen,"  said  he.  "Just  now  I  have  other  matters 
to  attend  to." 

From  Bob  Sanders  and  the  three  loyal  sailors 
Captain  Marshall  got  a  fairly  accurate  account  of 


268    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

the  mutiny.  He  was  told  that  Jasper  Van  Blott 
had  done  his  best  to  get  all  hands  to  join  in  the 
plot.  The  former  supercargo  was  the  prime  mover 
in  the  affair,  and  the  first  mate  was  a  coward  and 
had  been  little  more  than  his  tool.  The  sailors 
who  had  gone  in  had  done  so  rather  unwillingly, 
and,  after  thinking  the  matter  over,  Captain  Mar- 
shall decided  to  read  them  a  stern  lecture  and  then 
forgive  them. 

It  was  now  no  longer  necessary  for  the  natives  to 
take  the  whites  to  Sobago  Island,  and,  after  a  brief 
consultation,  Soko  and  his  men  were  paid  off  and 
given  some  presents,  and  then,  the  mists  rising, 
the  canoe  was  headed  back  for  Yam-kolo  Island. 
It  was  the  last  that  Dave  and  his  friends  saw  of 
these  black  men,  who  had  proven  so  friendly. 

With  the  first  mate  in  irons,  Bob  Sanders  was 
advanced  to  fill  his  place.  This  left  the  position  of 
second  mate  vacant,  and,  after  a  consultation  with 
the  boys,  the  master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel  offered 
Billy  Dill  the  position,  and  he  accepted  gladly. 

"I  always  kind  o'  wanted  to  be  a  mate,"  said 
the  old  tar.  "I'm  tickled  to  death !"  And  his  face 
showed  it. 

With  the  lifting  of  the  mist  a  stiff  breeze  came 
up,  and  preparations  were  made  for  continuing  the 
voyage  to  Nanpi.  It  was  found  that  the  last 
storm  had  slightly  disabled  the  rudder,  which  ac- 
counted for  the  fact  that  the  bark  had  not  made 


RETAKING  OF  THE  "STORMY  PETREL"  269 

greater  headway  on  her  trip.  But  additional 
parts  were  on  board,  and  by  nightfall  the  damage 
was  made  good,  and  then  the  Stormy  Petrel  an- 
swered her  helm  as  well  as  ever. 

"And  now  for  Sobago  Island!"  cried  Dave,  to 
his  chums.  "I  hope  I  have  no  more  trouble  in  find- 
ing Mr.  Dunston  Porter  1" 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

LIFTING   THE   CURTAIN 

The  second  mate  told  the  truth  when  he  said 
Paul  Shepley  was  a  coward  and  under  the  thumb 
of  the  former  supercargo.  That  very  evening 
Shepley  begged  to  see  Captain  Marshall  alone,  and, 
when  given  the  opportunity,  actually  fell  on  his 
knees  before  the  master  of  the  Stormy  Petrel. 

"I  am  willing  to  do  anything,  captain!"  he 
groaned.  "Only  don't — don't  swing  me  from  the 
■ — the  yardarm !"  He  had  it  firmly  fixed  in  his 
mind  that  he  was  to  be  executed. 

"You  deserve  to  be  hanged!"  answered  the  cap- 
tain.    "I  don't  see  why  I  should  spare  you." 

"It  was  all  Van  Blott's  fault — he  fixed  the  whole 
thing  from  beginning  to  end.  He  got  the  stolen 
cases  on  board  and  made  me  promise  to  help  in 
getting  rid  of  them.  And  he  got  up  the  plan  to 
run  away  with  the  ship." 

After  that  Paul  Shepley  told  his  story  in  detail, 
and  the  captain  became  convinced  that  the  first 
mate  was  more  of  a  sneak  than  a  villain. 

"I  will  let  you  off,  upon  two  conditions,"  said 
Captain  Marshall,  at  last.     "The  first  is,  that  you 

270 


LIFTING  THE  CURTAIN  271 

serve  as  a  common  sailor  for  the  rest  of  this  trip. 
Will  you  do  it?" 

"Yes,  but  it's  pretty  hard  on  me,"  whined  Shep- 
ley. 

"The  second  condition  is,  that  you  promise  to 
appear  against  Van  Blott,  whenever  called  upon  to 
do  so." 

"Yes,  I'll  do  that." 

"Then  go  forward  and  take  Billy  Dill's  place  in 
the  forcastle." 

"Where  is  Dill  to  go?" 

"I  have  made  him  second  mate  and  Sanders  first 
mate." 

"Oh!"  murmured  Paul  Shepley,  and  said  no 
more.  It  cut  him  deeply  to  take  up  quarters  in  the 
forecastle,  where  the  men  treated  him  any  way 
but  kindly,  yet  he  was  glad  to  get  off  so  cheaply. 

The  next  day  was  an  anxious  one  for  Dave,  who 
was  on  the  constant  lookout  for  land.  Toward 
nightfall  a  speck  was  seen  in  the  distance,  and  in 
the  morning,  when  he  came  on  deck,  the  country 
youth  saw  before  him  Sobago  in  all  of  its  tropical 
beauty,  with  its  cozy  harbor,  its  long  stretch  of 
white  sand,  and  its  waving  palms.  In  the  harbor 
were  ships  of  several  nationalities,  and  also  numer- 
ous native  canoes,  and  the  scene  was  an  animated 
one. 

The  boys  had  no  difficulty  in  getting  ashore,  but 
once  on  the  streets  of  Nanpi,  they  scarcely  knew 


272     DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

how  to  turn.  They  walked  along  slowly  until  they 
came  to  a  shipping  office,  in  the  window  of  which 
was  a  sign: 


English  Spoken  Here. 


"I  am  going  in  here  to  ask  a  few  questions," 
said  Dave,  and  entered,  followed  by  Phil  and 
Roger.  They  found  in  the  office  a  very  stout  and 
very  bald  old  gentleman,  wearing  big  spectacles. 

"You  speak  English,  I  believe,"  said  Dave, 
politely. 

"I  speak  English,  and  a  dozen  other  languages, 
too,"  said  the  bald-headed  gentleman,  peering  at 
them  curiously.  "Why — er — how's  this?"  he 
added,  to  Dave,  "Is  this  some  joke?  Why  did 
you  shave  so  clean?" 

"Shave?"  repeated  Dave.  His  heart  gave  a 
sudden  bound.    "Why  do  you  ask  that  question?" 

"Why,  I — er — this  is  most  extraordinary!" 
ejaculated  the  man,  still  staring  at  the  country 
youth.    "I  don't  understand  it." 

"Don't  understand  what?" 

"You  look  so  much  like  a  man  I  know — a  Mr. 
Dunston  Porter.  Maybe  he  is  some  relative  of 
yours?" 


LIFTING  THE  CURTAIN  273 

"The  very  man  I  am  looking  for!"  cried  Dave. 
"Can  you  tell  me  where  I  can  find  him?"  His 
heart  was  almost  in  his  throat  as  he  asked  the 
question.  Supposing  Mr.  Dunston  Porter  had  left 
Sobago  Island  for  parts  unknown? 

"Find  him?  I  think  so.  He  was  here  yester- 
day and  said  he  was  going  out  to  the  ruins  of  the 
old  temple  on  the  Pokali  Road.  He  expected  to  be 
gone  all  day  on  the  trip.  He'll  be  back  to  town 
by  night." 

"Then  you'll  have  to  wait,  Dave,"  came  from 
Phil. 

"Oh,  I  can't  wait !"  burst  out  Dave.  "How  far 
is  that  old  temple  from  here?" 

"About  three  miles." 

"Can  I  hire  somebody  to  take  me  there?  I 
want  to  see  Mr.  Porter  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Certainly;  you  can  get  a  boy  for  a  few  pennies," 
answered  the  bald-headed  man.  "There  is  a  boy 
now  who  wants  a  job."  And  he  beckoned  to  an 
urchin  who  sat  on  an  empty  box,  eating  a  banana. 

When  the  lad  came  up  the  man  explained  in  the 
native  tongue,  and  soon  the  party  set  off,  Dave  first 
thanking  the  bald-headed  man  for  his  kindness. 

To  Phil  and  Roger  the  walk  on  the  tropical  road 
was  long,  hot,  and  dusty.  But  Dave  was  so  busy 
with  his  thoughts  that  he  did  not  notice  he  was 
walking  at  all.  How  much  the  next  hour  or  two 
might  reveal! 


274    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Presently  they  came  in  sight  of  a  ruined  pile, 
which  the  native  boy  pointed  out  as  the  old  temple. 
Dave  forged  ahead  and  hurried  into  the  ruins,  and 
then  around  to  the  back.  Here,  from  under  some 
palms,  could  be  had  a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding 
country. 

A  hasty  glance  around  revealed  to  Dave  the 
form  of  a  man,  lying  on  the  grass  half  asleep.  The 
country  youth  hurried  forward,  gave  a  good  look, 
and  uttered  a  little  cry,  at  which  the  man  sat  up 
suddenly. 

"Who  are  you?"  asked  the  man,  and  then  he 
began  to  stare  at  Dave  very  hard. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Dunston  Porter?"  asked  Dave,  in 
a  voice  he  tried  in  vain  to  steady. 

"Yes,  that's  my  name.    But  you "    The  man 

paused  expectantly. 

"I  am  Dave  Porter.  I  have  come  about  seven 
thousand  miles  to  see  you." 

"Dave  Porter !  Seven  thousand  miles  to  see  me  1 
I  must  be  dreaming!"  The  man  leaped  to  his  feet 
and  came  up  to  Dave.  "How  is  this?  Won't  you 
explain?" 

"I  will  try,  Mr.  Porter." 

"They  do  look  exactly  alike!"  said  Phil  to 
Roger,  in  a  whisper.  "What  an  extraordinary 
likeness !" 

"No  wonder  Billy  Dill  was  startled  when  he  first 
met  Dave,"  added  the  senator's  son. 


"  I   have   come    about    seven    thousand    miles    to    see    you." 
Page  274. 


LIFTING  THE  CURTAIN  275 

Dunston  Porter  heard  the  talk  and  looked  at 
the  others.     At  this  Phil  took  a  step  forward. 

"We  are  Dave  Porter's  school  chums,"  he  ex- 
plained. "My  name  is  Phil  Lawrence,  and  this  is 
Roger  Morr." 

"Glad  to  know  you.  Did  you  travel  seven  thou- 
sand miles  to  see  me,  too?"  went  on  the  man. 

"Hardly  that,  but  we  took  the  trip  with  Dave," 
answered  Roger. 

"He  wanted  to  find  the  man  who  looked  like 
him,"  continued  Phil,  for  he  saw  Dave  could 
hardly  speak  for  his  emotion.  "And  he  has  found 
him.  You  two  look  exactly  alike — that  is,  you 
would,  if  your  mustache  was  shaved  off." 

"Yes  ?"    Dunston  Porter  paused.    "Is  that  all  ?" 

"No  !  no  !"  cried  Dave,  struggling  to  keep  calm. 
"I  came  to — to  find  out  something  about  myself,  if 
I  could.  It's  a  long  story,  and  I'll  have  to  start  at 
the  beginning.  .  When  I  was  a  youngster  about 
three  years  old,  I  was  picked  up  alongside  a  rail- 
road track  by  some  farming  people.  They  sup- 
posed I  had  been  put  off  a  train  by  somebody  who 
wanted  to  get  rid  of  me.  They  asked  me  my 
name,  and  I  said  something  that  sounded  to  them 
like  Davy  and  Dun-Dun  and  Porter,  and  so  they 
called  me  Dave  Porter." 

"Ah!"  cried  Dunston  Porter,  and  he  was  all 
attention.    "Go  on." 

"I  was  taken  to  the  poorhouse,  and  then  went  to 


276    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

live  with  some  other  folks  who  were  very  kind  to 
me,  and  one  rich  gentleman  sent  me  to  a  boarding 
school.  While  there  I  helped  an  old  sailor  named 
Billy  Dill " 

"Billy  Dill!    Well,  I  never!    Go  on,  please." 

"He  was  struck  when  he  saw  me — said  I  was 
somebody  else  with  my  mustache  shaved  off,  and  a 
lot  more.  He  finally  told  me  about  you,  and  said 
you  had  told  him  about  a  crazy  nurse  and  a  lost 
child,  and  so  I  made  up  my  mind  to  find  you,  if  I 
could,  and  see  if  you  knew  anything  about  my 
past."  Dave's  lips  began  to  quiver  again.  "Can 
you  tell  me  anything?" 

"I — I — perhaps  so."  Dunston  Porter's  voice 
was  also  quivering.  "Can  you  prove  this  story 
about  being  found  near  a  railroad?" 

"Yes." 

"About  thirteen  years  ago  ?" 

"Yes." 

"In  the  eastern  part  of  the  United  States?" 

"Yes,  near  a  village  called  Crumville.  They  say 
I  said  something  about  a  bad  man  who  wouldn't 
buy  some  candy  for  me.  It  may  be  that  that  man 
put  me  off  the  train." 

"He  did !"  almost  shouted  Dunston  Porter.  "It 
was  Sandy  Margot,  the  worthless  husband  of  the 
crazy  nurse,  Polly  Margot,  you  just  mentioned. 
She  took  the  child  and  turned  the  boy  over  to  her 
husband.     Margot  wanted  to  make  money  out  of 


LIFTING  THE  CURTAIN  277 

the  abduction,  but,  during  his  travels  with  the  little 
one,  he  learned  that  detectives  were  after  him,  and, 
when  the  train  stopped  one  day,  he  put  the  child 
off  and  promised  it  some  candy  to  keep  it  from 
crying.  He  got  away,  and  we  never  heard  of  him 
for  about  six  years.  Then  he  was  rounded  up  in  a 
burglary  and  badly  wounded.  He  confessed  at 
the  hospital,  but  he  could  not  tell  the  name  of  the 
place  where  the  child  had  been  dropped.  We  made 
a  search,  but  could  discover  nothing.  Margot  died, 
and  so  did  his  crazy  wife;  and  there  the  whole 
matter  has  been  resting." 

"But  who  am  I?"  cried  Dave,  unable  to  restrain 
the  question  any  longer. 

"Oh,  you  don't  know  that  ?  I  thought  Billy  Dill 
knew.  If  what  you  have  told  me  is  true,  you  are 
the  son  of  my  twin  brother,  David  Breslow 
Porter." 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

HOMEWARD    BOUND CONCLUSION 

"I  AM  the  son  of  your  twin  brother?"  repeated 
Dave,  while  Roger  and  Phil  listened  with  intense 
interest. 

"Yes,"  answered  Dunston  Porter.  "He  lost  his 
son  exactly  as  described,  and  the  baby  was  said  to 
resemble  me  very  strongly." 

"And  where  is  your  brother  now?" 

"He  is  traveling  for  his  health.  The  last  I  heard 
of  him  he  was  in  Europe,  at  one  of  the  well-known 
watering  places." 

"Is  his  wife  alive?" 

"No,  she  died  years  ago.  But  he  has  a  daughter 
with  him,  Laura — about  a  year  younger  than  you." 
Dunston  Porter  took  Dave's  hand.  "This  is  simply 
marvelous  1  I  can  hardly  believe  it !  My  nephew 
Dave !    Why,  it  sounds  like  a  fairy  tale." 

"It  is  marvelous,  Mr.  Por " 

"Hold  on !  If  we  are  relatives,  you'll  have  to 
call  me  Uncle  Dunston,"  and  the  man  smiled 
pleasantly. 

"Well,  then,  Uncle  Dunston,  are  my  father  and 
my  sister  alone  in  the  world?" 

278 


HOMEWARD  BOUND— CONCLUSION    279 

"They  are,  excepting  for  me.  We  used  to  have 
other  brothers,  and  a  sister,  but  all  of  them  are 
dead.     I  am  alone  here — an  old  bachelor." 

"But  you  used  to  live  with  my  father,  is  that 
it?" 

"Yes,  we  were  once  in  business  together — owned 
a  chemical  works  in  New  York  and  another  in 
Chicago,  and  we  also  had  some  patents  for  manu- 
facturing gas  by  a  new  process.  But  both  of  us 
liked  to  travel  around,  and  so  we  sold  out,  and 
since  that  time  we  have  been  roaming  around  the 
world,  sometimes  together,  and  then  again  alone, 
although  he  always  takes  Laura  with  him,  no  mat- 
ter where  he  goes.  He  is  afraid  to  leave  her 
behind,  for  fear  she  will  be  lost  to  him  just  as  you 
were." 

"Do  you  know  his  exact  address  now?" 

"No;  but  I  think  a  letter  sent  to  a  certain  ad- 
dress in  Paris  will  be  forwarded  to  him.  To  tell 
the  truth,  I  have  been  out  here  so  long  I  have  partly 
lost  track  of  him.  He  will  be  amazed  to  hear 
from  you,  I  am  sure,  and  Laura  will  be  surprised, 
too." 

"I  shall  write  to  him  as  soon  as  possible,"  an- 
swered Dave. 

"Of  course !  of  course !  And  I  will  write  too," 
rejoined  Dunston  Porter. 

After  that,  sitting  in  the  shade  of  the  old  temple 
and  the  palm  trees,  Dave  and  his  chums  told  their 


280    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

story  from  beginning  to  end,  and  then  Dunston 
Porter  related  some  of  his  own  experiences  and  told 
much  more  concerning  Dave's  father  and  sister 
Laura.  He  said  that  he  and  his  twin  brother 
looked  somewhat  alike,  which  accounted  for  Dave's 
resemblance  to  himself.  He  was  glad  to  add  that 
both  he  and  his  brother  were  well-to-do,  so  they 
could  come  and  go  as  they  pleased. 

"As  you  know,  I  am  hunting  for  a  treasure  of 
pearls  and  precious  stones,"  said  Dunston  Porter. 
"So  far,  I  have  been  unsuccessful,  but  I  feel  sure 
that  I  shall  find  them  some  day.  And,  even  if  I 
don't,  the  task  of  looking  for  the  treasure  pleases 
me  and  gives  me  the  chance  to  visit  many  of"  these 
beautiful  islands  of  the  South  Seas." 

The  boy  who  had  brought  Dave  and  his  chums 
to  the  old  temple  had  been  dismissed,  and  Dunston 
Porter  took  them  back  to  Nanpi,  where  he  had 
accommodations  in  the  best  public  house  the  place 
afforded.     Here  Billy  Dill  visited  him. 

"Does  my  heart  good  to  see  ye  again  !"  cried  the 
old  tar.  "An'  ain't  it  jest  wonderful  about  Dave? 
Now  stand  up,  side  by  side,  an'  look  into  thet  glass. 
As  like  as  two  beans,  say  I !"  And  Dunston  Porter 
agreed  with  him. 

Of  course  the  old  sailor  had  to  tell  all  he  knew, 
and  Dave  brought  out  pictures  of  Caspar  Potts  and 
the  Wadsworths  which  he  had  brought  along.  In 
return,  Dunston  Porter  gave  Dave  pictures  of  hie 


HOMEWARD  BOUND— CONCLUSION     281 

father  and  his  sister  Laura.  The  boy  gazed  at  the 
photographs  a  long  while,  and  the  tears  filled  his 
eyes  as  he  did  so. 

"Well,  there  is  one  thing  sure  !"  he  murmured  to 
Roger.  "At  any  rate,  I  am  no  longer  a  poorhouse 
nobody!" 

"That's  right,  Dave,"  returned  the  senator's 
son,  warmly.  "Let  me  congratulate  you.  By  that 
picture,  your  father  must  be  a  nice  man,  and  your 
sister  is  handsome." 

"And  to  think  that  they  are  rich,"  added  Phil. 
"That's  the  best  of  all." 

"No,  the  best  of  all  is  to  find  that  I  belong  some- 
where in  this  world- — that  I  am  not  a  nobody," 
answered  Dave,  earnestly. 

"Won't  Nat  Poole  and  Gus  Plum  stare  when 
they  hear  of  this!"  went  on  Roger.  "I  believe  it 
will  really  make  them  feel  sore." 

"Ben  and  Sam  and  the  others  will  be  glad,"  said 
Phil.  "And  I  am  sure  Doctor  Clay  will  want 
to  congratulate  you.  Dave,  it  paid  to  take  this  trip 
to  the  South  Seas,  after  all,  didn't  it?" 

"I  should  say  it  did!"  cried  Dave.  "I  shouldn't 
have  wanted  to  miss  it  for  the  world !" 

For  several  days  Dave  felt  as  if  he  was  dreaming 
and  walking  on  air,  his  heart  was  so  light.  The 
more  the  boy  saw  of  his  uncle  Dunston  the  more 
he  liked  the  man,  and  Dunston  Porter  was  equally 
pleased.     Both  had  long  talks  regarding  the  past 


282    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

and  the  future,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  man 
should  return  to  the  United  States  for  the  time 
being  and,  instead  of  hunting  for  the  treasure,  trace 
up  the  present  address  of  David  Porter,  senior,  and 
Dave's  sister  Laura. 

"I  wish  to  meet  this  Caspar  Potts,  and  also  the 
Wadsworths,"  said  Dunston  Porter.  "If  I  can,  I 
wish  to  repay  them  for  all  they  have  done  for 
you." 

"I  am  sure  they  will  not  take  any  money," 
answered  the  boy.  "But  they  will  be  glad  to  meet 
you."  Later  on  Dave  took  his  uncle  on  board 
the  Stormy  Petrel,  where  Captain  Marshall  gave 
the  newly  found  relative  a  very  enthusiastic  wel- 
come. 

The  captain  of  the  bark  had  thought  to  bring 
Jasper  Van  Blott  before  the  authorities  at  Nanpi, 
but  was  prevented  by  an  accident,  which  came  close 
to  terminating  fatally  and  sending  the  bark  up  into 
smoke  and  flames.  Jasper  Van  Blott  attempted  to 
break  out  of  the  oil  closet  in  the  bow  of  the  Stormy 
Petrel,  and,  in  so  doing,  lit  a  match.  This  fell  on 
some  oily  waste  in  a  corner  and,  before  an  alarm 
could  be  given,  the  former  supercargo  was  seriously 
burned,  and  the  whole  bow  of  the  bark  was  on  fire. 
Jasper  Van  Blott  had  to  be  taken  to  a  hospital, 
where  it  was  said  he  would  lose  the  sight  of  one  eye 
and  be  disfigured  for  life.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, it  was  decided  to  let  the  case  against  him 


HOMEWARD  BOUND— CONCLUSION     283 

drop.  The  damage  to  the  Stormy  Petrel  was  so 
serious  that  the  bark  had  to  be  laid  up  for  repairs, 
and,  in  such  an  out-of-the-way  place,  it  was  said 
these  would  take  a  month  or  six  weeks. 

"This  has  certainly  proved  to  be  a  strange  voy- 
age," said  Roger.  "I  must  say,  I  don't  like  the 
idea  of  staying  here  six  weeks.  I'd  like  to  get  back 
home." 

"Just  what  I  say,"  answered  Dave. 

In  the  port  was  what  is  known  as  a  "tramp" 
steamer,  that  is,  one  picking  up  any  cargo  to  be 
found,  from  one  port  to  the  next.  This  steamer 
had  secured  a  cargo  for  San  Francisco,  and  was  to 
sail  on  the  following  Saturday. 

"We  might  secure  passage  on  her,"  suggested 
Dunston  Porter,  and  inside  of  twenty-four  hours  it 
was  arranged  that  he,  with  Dave  and  Roger,  should 
sail  on  the  steamer.  Phil  was  to  remain  with  Cap- 
tain Marshall,  to  straighten  out  the  mess  left  by 
Jasper  Van  Blott. 

"But  never  mind,"  said  the  shipowner's  son, 
when  the  chums  came  to  separate,  "I'll  see  you 
again,  sooner  or  later — and  then  we'll  talk  over  all 
the  many  adventures  we  have  had." 

Dave  and  Roger  found  the  accommodations  on 
the  steamer  fully  as  good  as  those  on  the  bark,  and 
the  voyage  to  San  Francisco  passed  pleasantly 
enough.  As  soon  as  the  boys  went  ashore,  they 
hurried  to  the  post-office,  where  they  found  half  a 


284    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

dozen  letters  awaiting  them.    One,  from  Ben  Bass- 
wood  to  Dave,  interested  them  greatly: 

"You  will  be  glad  to  learn  that  Shadow  Hamil- 
ton is  cleared  of  the  trouble  that  was  laid  at  his 
door,"  so  ran  the  communication.  "Doctor  Clay 
had  somebody  set  a  watch,  and,  as  a  consequence, 
it  has  been  proved  beyond  a  doubt  that  Gus  Plum 
took  the  stamps  from  where  Shadow  placed  them 
in  his  sleep.  When  Plum  was  accused,  he  said  he 
didn't  know  they  were  the  doctor's  stamps.  It 
seems  he  needed  money,  as  his  father  is  down  in  the 
world  and  has  cut  off  Gus'  spending  allowance. 
There  was  a  big  row,  but  the  Plum  family  is  hush- 
ing the  matter  up,  and  I  understand  Doctor  Clay 
has  agreed  to  give  Gus  one  more  chance  at  Oak 
Hall." 

"It  is  just  like  Doctor  Clay  to  give  him  another 
chance,"  was  Roger's  comment.  "He  is  as  kind- 
hearted  as  any  man  in  the  world." 

"If  I  ever  go  back  to  school,  I  hope  I  have  no 
more  trouble  with  Gus  Plum,"  said  Dave.  But  he 
did  have  trouble,  of  a  most  peculiar  kind,  and  what 
it  was  will  be  told  in  another  volume  of  this  series, 
to  be  entitled :  "Dave  Porter's  Return  to  School; 
Or,  Winning  the  Medal  of  Honor."  In  this  new 
volume  we  shall  meet  all  our  old  friends  once  more, 
and  learn  something  further  of  Dave's  father  and 
sister  Laura. 


HOMEWARD  BOUND— CONCLUSION    285 

Dave  did  not  depend  on  the  mails,  but,  as  soon 
as  he  could,  had  telegrams  flashed  to  Crumville  and 
to  Doctor  Clay,  stating  he  had  found  an  uncle 
and  soon  expected  to  meet  his  father  and  sister. 
Then  the  party  of  three  took  a  Pullman  train  for 
the  East. 

"I  can  tell  you  it  feels  good  to  get  back  to  the 
United  States  once  more,"  said  the  senator's  son, 
as  the  boys  sat  by  the  car  window,  looking  at  the 
scenery  as  it  glided  by. 

"Do  you  know,  it  seems  an  age  to  me  since  we 
went  away,"  declared  Dave.  "And  yet,  it  is  only 
a  little  over  two  months!" 

"That  is  because  so  much  has  happened  in  the 
meantime,  Dave.  It  was  certainly  a  remarkable 
trip !" 

"And  the  trip  brought  remarkable  results,"  said 
Dunston  Porter,  with  a  quiet  smile. 

When  Dave  arrived  at  Crumville  there  was 
quite  a  gathering  to  receive  him  and  the  others. 
All  the  Wadsworths  were  there,  including  Jessie, 
who  rushed  straight  into  his  arms,  and  Caspar 
Potts  and  Ben  Basswood. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  are  back!"  cried 
Jessie. 

"We  are  all  glad,"  added  Ben. 

"We  cannot  bear  to  think  of  losing  you,  Dave," 
said  Mrs.  Wadsworth,  anxiously.  "You  have  be- 
come very  dear  to  us  all." 


286    DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

"You  are  not  going  to  lose  me;  that  is,  not  alto- 
gether," answered  the  boy.  "No  matter  what 
happens,  I  shall  never  forget  all  my  old  friends !" 

And  all  shook  hands  warmly.  And  here,  kind 
reader,  let  us  take  our  departure. 


THE   END 


Mr.  Stratemeyer's  popularity  will  be  increased  by  "Dave 
Porter."— Times,  Hartford,  Conn. 

DAVE  PORTER  SERIES 

By  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 

VOLUME  ONE 

DAVE  PORTER  AT  OAK  HALL 

Or  the  Schooldays  of  an  American  Soy 

312  pages    Illustrated    Price  $1.25 

NtEVER  was  there  a  brighter,  more  manly,  thoroughly  up-to-date  boy 
than  Dave  Porter,  and  all  boys  who  read  about  him,  and  girls  too, 
for  the  matter  of  that,  will  be  sure  to  love  him  from  the  start.  How,  as 
a  green  country  boy,  he  went  to  Oak  Hall,  how  he  was  hazed,  and  how 
he  had  to  fight  his  way  through  is  told  with  a  naturalness  that  is  true 
to  life. 
The  story  is  told  with  great  fidelity  to  real  life. — Eaglt,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

VOLUME  TWO 

DAVE  PORTER  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS 

Or  The  Strange  Cruise  of  the  Stormy  Petrel 

286  pages    Illustrated    Price  $1.25 

r\AVE  is  the  same  bright,  wide-awake  youth  he  was  at  school,  and  his 

adventures  on  shipboard  and  among  the  unexplored  islands  of  the 

South  Seas  will  render  him  dearer  to  the  hearts  of  the  boys  than  ever.  Dave 

is  trying  to  solve  the  mystery  of  his  parentage,  and  several  of  his  school 

chums  are  with  him  during  his  wanderings,  some  sharing  his  perils.     A 

great  tidal  wave  sends  the  ship  into  a  strange  harbor  and  there  follows  a 

mutiny  which  places  a  number  on  board  in  great  peril. 

Mr.  Stratemeyer's  heroes  are  full  of  fun,  and  the  activity  that  goes  with  youth, 
Strength  and  high  spirits.  They  are  all  safe — they  work  hard  and  play  fairly. 
—Star,    Washington,  D.  C. 


Mr.  Stratemeyer  has  seldom  introduced  a  more  popular  hero  than  Dave  Porter. 
He  is  a  typical  boy,  manly,  brave,  always  ready  for  a  good  time  if  it  can  be  oblT"**** 
in  an  honorable  way. —  Wisconsin,  Milrvaukee,    Wis^ 


George  Cary   Eggleston's 
Juveniles 

The   Bale   Marked   Circle  X 

A  Blockade  Running  Adventure 
Illustrated  by  C  Chase  Emerson,  J2mo,  red  cloth,  illustrated 
cover,  $1.50, 
Another  of  Mr.  Eggleston's  stirring  books  for  yonth.  In 
it  are  told  the  adventures  of  three  boy  soldiers  in  the  Con- 
federate Service  who  are  sent  in  a  sloop  on  a  secret  voyage 
from  Charleston  to  the  Bahamas,  conveying  a  strange  bale  of 
cotton  which  holds  important  documents.  The  boys  pass 
through  startling  adventures :  they  run  the  blockade,  suffer 
shipwreck,  and  finally  reach  their  destination  after  the 
pluckiest  kind  of  effort. 

Camp   Venture 

A  Story  of  the  Virginia  Mountains 

Illustrated  by  W.  A.  McCullough.    12mo,  dark  red  cloth, 

illustrated  cover,  $1.50, 
The  Louisville  Courier  Journal  says  :  "  George  Cary  Eggles- 
ton  has  written  a  decidedly  good  tale  of  pluck  and  adventure 
in  'Camp  Venture.'  It  will  be  of  interest  to  young  and  old 
who  enjoy  an  exciting  story,  but  there  is  also  a  great  deal  of 
instruction  and  information  in  the  book." 

The  Last  of  the   Flatboats 

A  Story  of  the   Mississippi 

Illustrated  by  Charlotte  Harding.  J2mo,  green  doth,  illustrated 
cover,  $1,50. 
The  Brooklyn  Eagls  says :  "  Mr.  George  Cary  Eggleston, 
the  veteran  editor  and  author,  has  scored  a  double  success  in 
his  new  book,  'The  Last  of  the  Flatboats,'  which  has  just 
been  published.  Written  primarily  as  a  story  for  young 
readers,  it  contains  many  things  that  are  of  interest  to  older 
people.  Altogether,  it  is  a  mighty  good  story,  and  well 
worth  reading." 

Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Co.,  Boston 


DAVE  PORTER  SERIES 

By  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 


VOLUME  FIVE 

DAVE  PORTER  AND  HIS  CLASSMATES 
Or  For  the  Honor  of  Oak  Hall 

Illustrated  by  Charles  Nuttall     12mo     Cloth     Price,  $1.25 


TN  this  volume  Dave  is  back  at  Oak 
Hall  after  his  thrilling  trip  to  find  the 
father  he  has  never  seen.  His  chums 
are  leaders  in  the  activities  of  the 
school,  and  Dave  continues  to  be  the 
best  type  of  an  American  schoolboy. 
"For  the  honor  of  Oak  Hall"  he 
brings  about  the  complete  reformation 
of  a  former  bully,  who  was  rapidly 
going  to  the  bad.  Athletic  events  and 
jolly  fun  are  constantly  mingled,  and  as  evidence  that  the 
boys  are  not  at  school  entirely  for  that,  many  take  high 
honors  at  the  close  of  the  year,  Dave  being  prize  essa}rist, 
to  the  great  delight  of  his  friends. 

"The  best  type  of  American  schoolboy." — Boston  Globe. 

"One  of  the  best  of  Edward  Stratemeyer's  books  for  boys." — Evening 
News,  Newark,  N.  y. 

"Athletic  events  are  told  with  a  zest  that  shows  the  author's  ability  in 
that  direction." — News,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 

"Will  hold  the  attention  of  the  readers  from  beginning  to  end." — 
Citizen,  Brooklyn,  N.   Y. 

"Mr.  Stratemeyer  has  a  sympathetic  understanding  of  boy  nature,  and 
does  not  make  the  mistake  of  making  it  all  a  bed  of  roses  for  his  hero." 
—  Union,  Springfield,   Mass. 


THE  LAKEPORT  SERIES 

By  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 

VOLUME  ONE 

THE  GUN  CLUB  BOYS  OF  LAKEPORT 

Or  The  Island  Camp 

321  pages    Illustrated    Price  $1.25 

A  BRIGHT,  breezy,  outdoor  story,  telling  how  several  lads  organized 
a  gun  club  and  went  camping  in  the  winter  time.  They  had  with 
them  a  trusty  old  hunter  who  revealed  to  them  many  of  the  stcrets  of 
Nature  as  found  in  the  woods.  A  volume  any  boy  who  loves  a  gun 
will  appreciate. 

This   story  of    camping  and  hunting  will  appeal   to  every  American  boy.— 
Register,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

VOLUME  TWO 

THE  BASEBALL  BOYS  OF  LAKEPORT 

Or  The  Winning  Run 

315  pages    Illustrated    Price  $1.25 

WITH  the  coming  of  summer  the  boys  turned  their  attention  to 
baseball  and  organized  a  club,  and  played  many  thrilling  games. 
The  rivalry  was  of  the  keenest,  and  the  particulars  are  given  of  a  plot 
to  injure  the  Lakeport  nine  and  make  them  lose  the  most  important 
game  of  all. 

Will  appeal  to  every  healthy  American  boy. — American,  Baltimore,  Md. 

VOLUME  THREE 

THE  BOAT  CLUB  BOYS  OF  LAKEPORT 

Or  The  Water  Champions 

300  pages    Illustrated    Price  $1.25 

THIS  time  the  scene  is  shifted  to  the  lake.  The  boys  all  know  how 
to  row  and  sail  a  boat,  and  they  organize  a  club  and  have  fun 
galore.  During  a  squall  on  the  lake  something  of  great  value  is  lost 
overboard.  The  abduction  of  a  little  girl  adds  to  the  interest  of  the 
volume.  Every  lad  who  loves  the  water  will  read  this  volume  with 
pleasure. 

This  author  knows  how  to  please  red-biooded  lads. —  Tintes-Un ion,  Albany, 

N.r. 


THE  LAKEPORT  SERIES 

By  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 


VOLUME  FOUR 

THE  FOOTBALL  BOYS  OF  LAKEPORT 

Or  More  Goals  Than  One 

Illustrated  by  Arthur  O.  Scott     12mo    Cloth    Price,  $1.25 

ITOOTBALL  is  one  of  the  most 
*  popular  sports  of  this  country, 
and  in  this  tale  Mr.  Stratemeyer  has 
shown  what  the  jolly  and  dauntless 
boys  of  Lakeport  did  when  the  foot- 
ball season  came  around.  Their 
heroes  of  the  baseball  field  were  not 
long  in  organizing  an  eleven  and 
getting  into  practice,  and  there 
followed  a  series  of  exciting  contests 
for  the  Lake  Pennant.  The  boys  had 
a  college  man  to  coach  them,  and 
made  a  number  of  brilliant  plays,  some  of  which  are 
described  by  the  author  in  detail.  How  the  quarter-back 
of  the  eleven  helped  his  rival  of  the  gridiron  to  get  away 
from  his  enemies  and  reach  the  field  in  time,  and  then 
defeated  him,  is  told  in  a  fashion  that  all  football  players 
will  appreciate.  But  the  story  is  not  all  of  the  football 
field,  and  some  jolly  times  on  the  water  and  on  an  island 
are  depicted  ;  and  the  author  shows  how  a  youth,  intensely 
shrinking,  overcame  his  timidity  and  made  something  of 
himself  by  simply  saying  "I  will"  and  sticking  to  it. 

''The  author  of  the  Lakeport  Series,  Mr.  Edward  Stratemeyer,  is  well 
known  for  his  delightful  boys'  stories." — Philadelphia  Ledger. 

"The  Lakeport  Series,  by  Edward  Stratemeyer,  is  the  lineal  descendant 
of  the  better  class  of  boys'  books  of  a  generation  ago." — Christian 
Advocate,  New  York. 

"The  Lakeport  Series  will  be  fully  as  popular  as  the  author's  Dave 
Porter  Series." — San  Francisco  Call. 


MEXICAN  WAR  SERIES 

By    EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 


VOLUME  ONE 
FOR  THE  LIBERTY  OF  TEXAS 

12mo    Cloth     Illustrated     Price,  $1.25 


MUCH  is  told  here  of  Sam  Houston,  Davy 
Crockett,  Colonel  Bowie,  and  other  Texan 
heroes  in  connection  with  the  entertaining  story 
of  the  fortunes  of  two  brothers,  Dan  and  Ralph 
Radbury.  The  fall  of  the  Alamo  is  introduced, 
and  other  famous  incidents. 

VOLUME  TWO 

WITH  TAYLOR  ON  THE 

RIO  GRANDE 

12mo    Cloth    Illustrated    Price,  $1.25 

AS  with  each  of  the  series,  this  is  a  complete  story,  but  continues  the 
adventures  of  the  patriotic  young  Radbury  brothers.  They  serve 
under  General  Taylor  at  Palo  Alto,  Monterey,  and  Buena  Vista  and  share 
in  the  glory  of  "Old  Rough  and  Ready." 

VOLUME  THREE 
UNDER  SCOTT  IN  MEXICO 

12mo    Cloth    Illustrated    Price,  $1.25 

IN  the  concluding  volume   of  this  valuable  historical  series   Dan  and 
Ralph  come  under  the  command  of  Gen.   Winfield  Scott  and  finally 
bear  their  part  in  the  triumphant  entry  of  the  proud  city  of  Mexico. 


These  books  were  first  issued  under  a  pen  name  and  by  another 
publisher.  We  have  now  placed  them  in  the  regular  list  of  this  unequaled 
writer  for  boys,  with  an  entirely  new  cover  design  in  keeping  with  the 
uniformly  rich  appearance  of  our  Stratemeyer  books. 


"  There  are  few  live  boys  in  the  country  who  have  not  read  the  intensely 
interesting  books  of  Mr.  Stratemeyer,  and  who  do  not  have  a  warm  place  in  their 
hearts  tor  him.  No  living  American  writer  of  boys'  books  is  so  widely  read,  and 
none  so  sure  of  a  cordial  welcome  for  everything  that  comes  from  his  pen.''— 
Chicago  News \ 


PAN-AMERICAN  SERIES 

By  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 

JUIU— !■■!—  milWIIIMIHWI  !!■!■  —  —Il»ll  I  IIUIII  ■■  II  I  lln  I  H    I  11 II— IMIIMI  UiMH  ■■  «  II    ~ 

VOLUME  ONE 

LOST  ON  THE  ORINOCO 

Or  American  Boys  in  Venezuela. 

12mo    Cloth    Illustrated    Price  $1.25 

THIS  volume  tells  of  five  American  youths,  who,  with  their  tutor,  sail 
from  New  York  to  La  Guayra,  touching  at  Curacao  on  the  way* 
They  visit  Caracas,  go  westward  to  the  Gulf  of  Maracaibo  and  lake  of 
the  same  name,  and  at  last  find  themselves  in  the  region  of  the  mighty 
Orinoco,  and  of  course  they  have  some  exciting  experiences,  one  of  which 
gives  name  to  the  book. 

Its  pictures  of  South  American  life  and  scenery  are  novel  and  instructive.— > 
The  Literary  Worlds  Boston. 

The  scenes  described  are  of  the  sort  to  charm  the  hearts  of  adventurous  boys.— 
The  Outlook,  N.  T. 

VOLUME  TWO 

THE  YOUNG  VOLCANO  EXPLORERS 

Or  American  Boys  in  the  West  Indies 

I2mo    Cloth    Illustrated    Price  $1,25 

""THE  boys,  with  their  tutor,  sail  from  Venezuela  to  the  West  Indies, 
*  stopping  at  Jamaica,  Cuba,  Hayti,  and  Porto  Rico.  They  have 
numerous  adventures  on  the  way,  and  then  set  out  for  St.  Pierre,  Mar- 
tinique, where  they  encounter  the  effects  of  the  eruption  of  Mt,  Pelee, 
and  two  of  the  boys  are  left  on  a  raft  to  shift  for  themselves  Life  in  the 
West  Indies  is  well  portrayed. 

VOLUME  THREE 

YOUNG  EXPLORERS  OF  THE  ISTHMUS 
Or  American  Boys  in  Central  America 

306  pages     Cloth     Illustrated  by  A.  B.  Shute     Price  $1.25 

DELATES  adventures  in  a  tour  covering  Nicaragua,  Costa  Rica, 
*• »  and  the  Isthmus  of  Panama.  The  party  travel  the  various  canal 
routes,  and  have  a  number  of  highly  interesting  experiences.  The  vol- 
ume contains  a  vast  amount  of  timely  information,  and  will  be  read  with 
interest  by  young  men  as  well  as  boys. 


PAN-AMERICAN  SERIES 

By  EDWARD  STRATEMEYER 


VOLUME  FOUR 

YOUNG  EXPLORERS  OF  THE  AMAZON 
Or  American  Boys  in  Brazil 

300  pages     12mo     Illustrated  by  A.  B.  Shute    Price  $1.25 

AN  absorbing  tale  of  sight-seeing  and  adventures  in 
Brazil.  The  five  boys  and  their  tutor  travel  the 
whole  seacoast  from  Rio  de  Janeiro  to  Para,  and  then 
move  up  the  Amazon  into  the  rubber  country  and  beyond. 
The  volume  is  filled  with  pen-pictures  of  life  as  it  exists 
in  Brazil  to-day,  and  will  be  heartily  enjoyed  by  all  young 
people. 

The  Pan-American  Series  by  Edward  Stratemeyer  has  been  declared  by 
the  boys  of  this  country  to  be  the  most  up-to-date  of  all  reading  for  the 
young.    Filled  with  action  and  good  fellowship. —  Waverley  Magazine. 

VOLUME  FIVE 

TREASURE  SEEKERS  OF  THE  ANDES 

Or  American  Boys  in  Peru 

310    pages     Illustrated  by  Charles  Nuttall     Price  $1.25 

THIS  volume  takes  the  young  explorers  from  the  head 
of  the  Amazon  River  to  the  coast  of  Peru  and  then 
into  the  mighty  snow-topped  mountains.  One  of  the  boys 
obtains  possession  of  a  secret  regarding  a  Spanish  treasure 
and,  with  a  companion,  goes  in  quest  of  the  same,  and  both 
get  lost  in  a  series  of  caves.  The  volume  is  up-to-date  and 
will  please  both  young  and  old. 

Mr.  Stratemeyer  has  acquired  the  art  of  weaving  a  good  deal  of  solid 
information  with  his  web  of  startling  adventure. — San  Francisco  Bulletin, 


